


A Matter of Style - Etchings

by ohmyfae



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Light Dom/sub, M/M, More characters and tags as they appear, Multi, Open relationship OT3, Sex, designer au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-01-04 01:42:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21189461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmyfae/pseuds/ohmyfae
Summary: An AU where Ardyn is a fashion designer, Noct is his new assistant, and Ravus is Ardyn's favorite model and long-time lover.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Because I can't just write a one shot and leave it alone, can I? Blame dustofwarfare for being an enabler.

The last time Ravus Nox Fleuret saw Noctis Caelum in the flesh, Ravus had been twenty-six, on leave with the army, and in the act of kicking Noctis down half a flight of stairs.

“Tell me,” Ravus growled, as Noct stumbled back, upending an ornamental vase. “I’m dying to know. What in the seven _hells_ compelled you to climb through my bedroom window tonight?”

Noct had stared at him, open mouthed, legs splayed akimbo at the bottom of the stairs.

“Dunno,” he said at last. Ravus’ shadow fell over him, muting the blue of his wide eyes. “Guess I got the wrong window.”

That had been a lifetime ago, lost in the chaos of war and upheaval and cross-country moves, and somewhere along the line, Ravus had forgotten the way Noct had smiled, then, that wicked curve of the lips before Ravus’ boot came down.

Now, some five years later, Ravus came home to find Noctis fucking his lover.

It wasn’t unusual for Ardyn to bring home the occasional one night stand, of course, though most of his rotating list of lovers didn’t make it through the front door. Ravus was the only one who stayed, whose name was on the lease and fingerprints on every door and cabinet. The others were flickers of fire in their lives, seeing Ardyn as a fashion designer on the rise, Ravus as his twin star in the modeling world. But Ravus saw Ardyn at his worst, bedraggled and sleepless with his sketchbook over his lap, staring at the wall in a desperate hope for inspiration. 

Still, there were some cases when Ravus had to draw a line. 

Noct’s dark hair fell into his eyes as he thrust into Ardyn, a slow, rolling movement that barely shifted Ardyn on the bedsheets. Ardyn’s thighs blocked Noct in as he moved, sweat rolling down his back, both hands pressed to the slight paunch of Ardyn’s belly for support. It was slow, much slower than Ravus generally preferred, and Noct’s legs trembled slightly as he buried himself in Ardyn and held himself there a moment, trying to hold himself back. 

“Lovely,” Ardyn said. He touched Noct’s cheek, and Noct’s eyes opened, his gaze fixing on Ardyn with a heat that surprised Ravus. He dragged at his lower lip with his teeth and rocked into Ardyn again. 

Ravus leaned against the wall. Ardyn had told him that he was taking someone to dinner tonight—An assistant of his brother’s; some poor, underpaid intern Somnus probably didn’t remember and wouldn’t mind forgetting. Just another cog in the machine. 

Ravus thought of the way Noct had laughed years ago, rolling on the rug of Ravus’ foyer. 

“Gonna… Think I’m…” Noct sank down to kiss Ardyn, grabbing fistfuls of his hair, and only the stiffening of his legs gave Ravus any sign that he’d come. Ardyn held him through it, kissing him slowly, with the lazy tenderness of an old lover—Not some stranger he’d fucked on a whim. Noct sat up, wincing slightly, and Ravus ducked back as he started to peel off his condom. 

“You should leave him, you know,” Ardyn said, as footsteps thumped across the bedroom floor. “My brother. He’s no good for you. You’d do much better in a smaller outfit, somewhere that will recognize your talents.”

“Yeah? Lemme guess. You’re looking for an assistant. Or a partner.” The bedsprings creaked, and Ravus glanced through the open door to find Noct kneeling in front of Ardyn, running his hands over his lower belly.

“I could be,” Ardyn said, with a slow smile. 

“I can’t work for you if you’re fucking me,” Noct said. He ran his hands up Ardyn’s thighs, tracing a scar over his hip. “Wouldn’t be right.”

“Fucking me isn’t a prerequisite for the job,” Ardyn brushed Noct’s chin with his knuckles. “Nice as it may be. Besides, I rather suspect _he’s_ the one fucking you.” The muscles of Noct’s back tightened, and Ravus eased closer.

“Isn’t he?”

“So that’s what this is.” Noct’s voice was leaden, emotionless. He pulled back, and Ardyn raised his brows, sprawled on the ruined bedsheets. “Some kind of trick to get back at your brother.”

“No.” Ardyn’s gaze followed Noct as he got up, searching for his cast-off clothes. “I’ve done that already. I just know a man with his back to the wall when I see one.”

Noct dragged on his boxers, and Ravus stepped out of sight, resting on his prosthetic shoulder. He wondered if Ardyn had seen something of that in _him,_ once, when Ravus was young and furious and brimming with self-loathing. He’d hated his prosthetics, hated the phantom pains that ran through veins that no longer existed, hated the news of troop movements on the front, hated the war… Ardyn had fucked him into mindlessness, that first night, left him panting and empty, alone at last in his own head. And then he’d come back to him, again, again, and he’d dressed him in clothes that made him beautiful…

“I’m not _sleeping_ my way to the top,” Noct snapped.

“No, you’re sleeping your way to the bottom.” Ravus winced. “He’s stifling you, Noct. I saw your designs for wheelchair accessible evening wear. You’re inventive. You’re clever. You’re possibly one of the brightest minds in the business. He’s a fool if he’s only keeping you for your pretty face.”

“_Fuck_ you,” Noct said. He limped out of the bedroom, disheveled in a skull-print shirt and leather pants, and stopped short at the sight of Ravus. He opened his mouth, his already flushed cheeks darkening, and pushed past him. The door to the apartment hummed as it slammed shut, and Ravus crossed an arm over his chest, drumming his fingers on his prosthetic.

“Well,” he said. “You two certainly got on like a house on fire. How are the burns?”

Ardyn emerged from the bedroom fully nude, bare feet cat-quiet on the carpet. “Minimal,” he said. “How long before he comes back, do you think?”

“Never,” Ravus said. Ardyn didn’t seem all put out by the prospect. He simply walked to the kitchen, bare ass on display for every highrise resident outside their window to see, and took down a bottle of bourbon. He poured a glass, then another, and walked them both back to the bedroom. 

“At least wash the sheets,” Ravus said, but the door shut in his face, and he spent that night in his own room, thinking of Noctis standing in the hallway, lost and furious and young, yet another stray moth caught in Ardyn’s expansive web.

Ravus didn’t see Noct again for some time. Somnus appeared at one or two shows, of course, with half a dozen models wearing safe, season-appropriate designs, but Noct didn’t appear with his other assistants. Ardyn didn’t comment on his absence, either, focusing entirely on Ravus and his other part-time models, and Ravus allowed that strange evening to slip to the back of his mind, merely another whim of Ardyn’s that fell through. 

They went to the Citadel Gala together that year, but Ardyn didn’t give Ravus one of his own designs to wear. He gave him something else; A black outfit without his usual ostentatious flair, with fitted pants that felt like silk but draped with the stiff formality of Ravus’ favored style. His shirt was more of a tunic than a suit top, with a high collar fitted by a band that made Ravus have to tilt his chin up just a little higher than usual. The left sleeve of his long, heavy cloak was wired, giving him a symmetrical look to his shoulders even without his prosthetic. 

“The sleeve’s detachable, as well,” Ardyn said, showing him how to tuck in the left sleeve without leaving an awkward gap or button that ruined the line of his shoulders. “Every detail accounted for.”

“Who’s the designer?” Ravus asked. 

Ardyn only shrugged. “No one of any importance. Come, we’ll be late at this rate.”

Ravus waited until Ardyn turned away to smile to himself. Ardyn made a point of never arriving to a public event on time. 

True to form, there was already a crowd at the Citadel gates by the time they stepped out of their car, leaving the poor valet to be seen in public in a convertible painted like a moogle. Ravus paused for photos, trying to catch the right angle for the more reputable magazines, as Ardyn, waving a dismissive hand at reporters, said that no, Ravus wasn’t wearing an Ardyn Izunia tonight.

“This is a Caelum,” Ardyn said, and Ravus’ expression froze. “Noctis Caelum.”

The reporters dithered, clearly trying to search their sheets for Noctis’ name among the designers invited to the event, and Ardyn took Ravus’ arm in his, sweeping him up the stairs. 

“You could have told me,” Ravus hissed, as his perfect cape billowed at his shoulders. 

“You would have refused,” Ardyn said. “And you have to admit, it’s a lovely look for an amateur. Black suits you.”

Ravus tried to glare, but Ardyn’s gaze slid past him like water, sliding over the glittering, shimmering guests crowding the stairs. “Did _he_ know it was for me?”

“He knew your measurements,” Ardyn said. “_Do_ try not to make a fuss, Ravus.”

“A fuss? _Me?_ You melodramatic, meddling son of a—”

“Aranea!” Ardyn slipped out of Ravus’ grasp with all the ease of a snake darting through the high grass, striding towards a young woman in red and black. Ravus let him go, trying to contain the indignation he was surely broadcasting for every paparazzi to see, and closed his eyes for a breath. He wasn’t even in the Citadel yet, and he already needed air. He should have known that Ardyn wouldn’t have dressed him in someone else’s design without a reason. 

Ravus made for the stairwell at the far end of the Citadel entranceway, which was blocked off by a pair of chairs locked together. He and one of the other models had hidden away there two years before, drinking champagne out of the glare of the lights and sparkle of chandeliers. The man had been a nice distraction for a time, charming and refreshingly reserved, almost too shy to disrobe in the privacy of his own apartment. Ravus silently thanked him for the use of a proper hiding place and eased the chairs out of the way of the door. 

When he slipped silently into the darkness of the stairwell, Ravus heard voices from above. He slunk under the stairs, sinking into the shadows in his black clothes, and heard the slap of a hand on stone, a grunt of breath, the slide of cloth scraping against the wall.

“Look.” Ravus knew that voice. A man’s, low and labored. “I thought I was supposed to—Fuck, easy—” 

“You’re here because I wanted you here,” another man said. There was a soft, organic sound, another grunt—Ravus grimaced. He knew what _that_ meant, well enough. Still, even Ardyn would have balked at fucking in an unused stairwell. “You aren’t ready for the Gala proper, Noct. Trust me. I’ll know when it’s time.”

Noct. Ravus let out a long breath. So Ardyn was right, then. He inched closer to the wall and peered up through the gap in the stairs, and could just see Noct’s hands on the wall a few flights up, and someone else’s arm braced around a slender throat.

“I need you to work for me, Noctis,” Somnus’ voice was amused, a mocking reflection of Ardyn at his contrariest, and Ravus shuddered and drew away. He yanked open the door and slammed it shut again, and ignored the frantic sounds of clothes being rearranged as she strode up the dusty steps.

Somnus was perfectly dressed by the time Ravus rounded the second flight, his dark hair gelled back and suit pressed, but that was to be expected. Noct still had his hands on his shirt, his fingers slipping on the buttons, and when he saw Ravus at the bottom of the stairs, he let his hands drop. He stared at him like he was a specter from his own nightmares, sweeping up the steps with a cloak dark as night, silky as the feathers of a crow. 

“Ravus,” Somnus said, with a polite, disinterested smile. “That’s it. You’re one of Ardyn’s models, aren’t you?”

“That’s mine.” Noct’s voice came out as a croak. Somnus glanced at him sharply, and Noct scrubbed at the back of his neck. “That’s. You’re wearing my…”

“I want to thank you for the suit,” Ravus said, pointedly ignoring Somnus. He stopped a few feet away, back straight, chin raised high. “It’s. Fitting.”

Noct took a step away from Somnus, looking Ravus up and down with the same air Ardyn had at times, when he had a mouth full of pins and a new design hanging loose on Ravus’ frame. “You were the one who commissioned it. Your arm. The cloth doesn’t scrape over any scars, does it? I lined the inside, but I wasn’t sure without seeing in person—”

“Pardon?” Somnus said.

“I can’t feel it,” Ravus said. “But the collar is a little high.”

“I can fix that,” Noct said. He stepped close, and Ravus could smell the sweat on his skin, sticking to his open shirt. Noct reached up to adjust the collar, and Ravus pushed his hands down. 

“I didn’t say I disapprove,” he said.

“Oh.”

“Excuse me,” Somnus said. Noct turned to him, but Ravus kept his gaze on Noct. His shoes were scuffed and unpolished, and his pants were clearly store-bought. Ardyn would have never allowed him to come without visiting a tailor, but Ravus doubted Somnus paid his assistants well enough to foot the bill. 

“Are you saying,” Somnus said, in a dangerously soft voice, “you’re wearing one of my designs? To Ardyn’s credit?”

Ravus finally looked at him. His eyes blazed, but Ravus arched his brows and tilted his chin up just a fraction more. “No,” he said. “I wasn’t aware that you submitted any of Mr. Caelum’s designs into your company’s patent lists. I would have seen his name there, at least. In any case, this is custom made.”

“I wasn’t breaking contract,” Noct said. “You said I could make commissions since I’m not approved to—”

“We’ll discuss this later,” Somnus said. He dragged his hand against Noct’s sleeve as he passed, and only Ravus saw the fleeting look of disgust in Noct’s eyes. “I need to speak to my brother.”

“Right, and I’ll just wait here,” Noct said. Somnus didn’t answer. He just disappeared down the stairs, yet another dull black suit in a gala full of them, and wrenched open the door. 

Noctis and Ravus examined each other in his wake, Noct’s gaze wary, Ravus’ appraising.

“Gods above,” Ravus said at last, and stepped closer to button up the rest of Noct’s shirt. Noct seemed too alarmed to object, and he watched Ravus keenly, searching his face. 

“Did you mean that before?” he asked. “About the suit.”

“I’m a piss poor liar,” Ravus admitted. He sighed. “Well. I suppose I’ll have to invite you to dinner, then.”

Noct’s brows lowered. “Hold on. I’m not—”

“I’m fairly sure that’s lube on your shirt,” Ravus said, and Noct’s cheeks colored. He certainly was very expressive. Ravus could see where Ardyn saw the appeal—Ravus wasn’t very forthcoming with his emotions at the best of times. “I know I’d only… add to your consequence, I suppose, if we were to stay, but you can’t go out there shirtless.”

Noct took a long, shuddering breath. “Fuck.”

Ravus texted Ardyn on the way out, smuggling Noct the back way to where lines of taxis idled by the gate. They ordered takeout on the drive home, and Noct stripped off his shirt in the car, revealing the faint outline of abs and the pale shadow of scars along his back and hip. He caught Ravus staring, but didn’t comment on it, balling his shirt into a fist and staring out the window at the dark city unfolding around them. 

He was blissfully quiet on the way up to the apartment, carrying bags of takeout in both hands. Noct rummaged in the kitchen while Ravus changed—It was pleasant, he had to admit, to be able to dress and undress without making concessions for clothes meant for men with two arms instead of one. The buttons were all easy to reach, nothing needed two hands to unbuckle or zip, and there was no ungainly wriggling. Ravus looked down at the discarded suit and cursed under his breath. 

When he came back to the living room, dressed in his sleep clothes, Noct was laying out plates. 

“So,” Noct said. “About Somnus.”

“I want to commission you again,” Ravus said. Noct froze, and Ravus cleared his throat. “For casual wear. Something that _works._ How much do you need.”

“I don’t—”

“I won’t ask a second time.”

Noct smiled down at his plate. “Sure,” he said. “I’ll send you a quote.”

Ravus sat stiffly, and Noct silently split a pair of disposable chopsticks before passing them over. Ravus didn’t bother thanking him. He thought of the young man he’d been when Ravus had found him crawling into his bedroom window, the way he’d fought like a cat as Ravus dragged him to the stairs, turning on all the lights in the house as he went. Luna refused to speak to him for weeks, afterwards. Ravus thought of the light in his eyes then, and realized it was the same as the look Noct had when he was examining Ravus’ outfit in the stairwell. Intrigued. Maybe even impressed.

Hell, he thought, as Noct dug into glazed chicken on the other side of the table. He’d found another Ardyn. Deviants, the both of them. 

“You might as well work with him,” Ravus said into the silence. Noct looked up. “Ardyn. You should sign a contract. You may hate him, sometimes, but he’ll put you to use.”

“You seem to like him okay,” Noct said. Ravus took a sip of water rather than reply, and Noct smiled again, a little too knowing for his liking.

He was gone by the time Ardyn came back, leaving nothing but his filthy shirt and a fridge full of takeout. Ravus didn’t turn from the sink when the door swung open, just braced himself as Ardyn wrapped his arms around Ravus’ middle and breathed in the scent of his hair. 

“You’re woefully overdressed, love,” Ardyn said. His voice came out muffled against Ravus’ neck, and his hands traveled lower, tugging at his pants.

“I assume you and your brother had a fight,” Ravus drawled. “God, you’re as bad as—” he caught a glimpse of Ardyn as he twisted in his hold. A brilliant purpling bruise spread over Ardyn’s right eye, and his lower lip was split and glistening with blood. “The hell did you do?”

“I’ve been banned from the Gala for twelve years,” Ardyn said. He kissed Ravus’ jaw. “And I broke my brother’s nose. I’m no longer welcome at the family solstice party. Could you be a dear and fetch the cuffs from the closet, you know I love you in leather.”

“Barbarian,” Ravus said, and Ardyn chuckled into his neck. “Yes. Alright. Let go of me.” He pried himself loose of Ardyn’s clutches. 

“And that cape,” Ardyn said, trailing after Ravus. He latched onto him, hands roaming up Ravus’ shirt, down his front, groping his thighs. “With that lovely high collar.”

“You’ll see more of that soon, I’m sure,” Ravus said, as Ardyn practically dragged him into the bedroom. Ardyn’s shoulder struck the door on the way in—yet another bruise to his glorious collection, Ravus thought—and he pushed Ravus to the bed. “Noctis is halfway yours already. So long as you can keep him from being caught in other people’s bedrooms.”

“I’m sure that won’t be a problem,” Ardyn said, and sank to his knees on the carpet, bloody and bruised and blessedly triumphant.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been over a week since Ardyn Izunia had accepted Noct as his assistant, and he still hadn’t brought up the fact that the last time they met, Noct had stripped them both down on Ardyn’s bed and fucked Ardyn into it.

Which was fine.

Nobody _had_ to mention it. 

Except when Ardyn leaned over him like a fucking behemoth in a handmade coat, reminding him of the strength of his legs and the sure touch of his hands even as he flipped through Noct’s designs while his _actual_ lover sunbathed in the window.

“They’re a little slinky for the current style,” Ardyn said, skimming through his notes. “And what are all these notes about the train? Surely it isn’t that complex.”

“Women shouldn’t need to have a friend hold up their dress when they pee,” Noct said. Ravus snorted, and quickly glanced away when Noct scowled. “Look, I’m not gonna say it on stage or whatever, but it’s true. And if you’re walking with crutches, having a dress with a train is gonna be a problem, cause they never really stay behind you. So I thought, you know. Like. A train you can turn into a sash if you wanted, to give the waist more definition.”

He waited while Ardyn scanned the page, his expression vague. Somnus had always dismissed his suggestions out of hand, insisting that Noct go back to the basics before he tried to save the world, so when Ardyn closed the book and handed it back, he quietly resigned himself to cursing under his breath while he cut up patterns for the rest of his life.

“Let me show you where we keep the scrap cloth,” Ardyn said, jerking Noct out of his thoughts, “and we’ll see if this works.”

Noct frowned, brows knit tight, and Ardyn patted his shoulder. 

“Don’t look so alarmed,” he said. “After all, nothing’s worth doing if you aren’t in danger of making a catastrophic mistake.”

“Story of his life,” Ravus said from the window, and Noct caught a glimpse of him stretched out like a cat in the sun, light gliding over his long neck and high cheekbones, before Ardyn swept Noct into the storeroom. 

The train was a disaster. It worked in theory, but it was too obviously a modification in practice, and with Ardyn fussing over the little details, suggesting a change here and a tuck there, it turned into a draping skirt that hung over the mannequin like a pair of ancient curtains.

“Maybe if we put a silk dress underneath,” Noct said, when Ardyn just stared.

“Almost regal,” Ardyn said. “I approve. Draw up some diagrams and show me tomorrow, and we’ll see if we can get Cinderella ready for the ball.”

“Right,” Noct said. Ardyn gave him another meaningless smile as he passed him by, and Noct stepped back, feeling like he’d missed a note in a song he didn’t know he was playing.

He hesitated at the door, watching Ardyn glide through the studio, plucking at half-finished suits and adjusting stacks of supplies. He stopped at the window and ran his hand through Ravus’ hair, and Ravus sighed and stretched, looking up at him from under long, drooping lashes. Ardyn leaned down to kiss him, and Noct thought of the way his lips had felt on his own, warm and soft and almost teasing. He took a sharp breath and rocked on his heels, a marionette on a string.

Then he went home.

He came to work again. Ardyn didn’t touch him. He didn’t ask him to dinner, or coffee, or invite him to stay when Ravus was gone on a convention tour and the emptiness of his studio yawned in the warm afternoon sun. Noct never saw the inside of his apartment, even to retrieve his old shirt from the Gala, and Ardyn said nothing of the time they’d staggered into his bedroom all those months ago, half naked and panting into each other’s skin.

Which he shouldn’t have minded. He didn’t need to sleep with his boss. That was the point, really. The reason he left Somnus’ studio. The reason he didn’t look at any of the messages on his phone, or email, or DMs. He needed the space to be himself.

So Noct went to the club instead, where he drowned himself in the thud of the bass and the eager hands of one of his on-again off-again hookups, who sucked marks into his neck in the corner of the club. 

“You’re so fucking tense lately,” Gladio said, digging his fingers into Noct’s hip. “Somethin’ up at work?”

“Please.” Noct peeled himself away to let Gladio dance with a larger man with looping braids and an easy smile, and staggered across the dance floor to the bar.

Where Ardyn was sitting, a martini glass in hand, dressed in rose-embroidered pants and a silky black shirt that draped just under the crease of his pecs.

Noctis _hated_ him.

He slammed into the bar with a crack that sent shockwaves up his bad knee, propped his elbow on the counter as though he’d meant to barrel head-first into a brick wall, and gazed up at the bartender. “You have any Leviathan?”

“Sure,” the bartender said. She was a tall woman with silvery white hair like Ravus, and she smiled down at Noct as though she were in on a private joke he didn’t understand. “If you want to die. Card, please.”

“I ordered drinks half an hour ago,” Noct said.

“Them’s the breaks, baby-face.”

Noct scowled and dug through his pants for his card. Ardyn watched him sidelong, raising his glass to his lips, and Noct realized he was wearing what Ardyn probably thought was trash—ripped skinny jeans and a mesh shirt, with a panel Noct had hastily sewn in the back to hide his scars. Noct’s cheeks warmed as he snatched his card back from the bartender, and he took the shot glass without a word.

“Noctis,” Ardyn said, nodding slightly.

Noct threw back the shot. It burned like hell going down, but he set it on the counter with a click and slid in front of Ardyn, making him ease back in his seat.

“You should take me home,” Noct said.

Ardyn sighed and reached around Noct to set his glass on the counter. “Well, you’re in no fit state to drive.”

“Go right to hell,” Noct said, climbing into Ardyn’s lap. This was a terrible idea. The bartender was right there. Gladio was somewhere on the dance floor with people who actually wanted him. Noct shouldn’t have to climb his boss like a tree just to get dicked down like he wanted, but there he was, hands on Ardyn’s shoulders, legs locked around his thighs like a fucking vise.

“Should I dress up or something?” Noct asked. He ground down on Ardyn, a little too hard and fast, and tried not to blush pink when Ardyn carefully grabbed his hips to steady him.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand, Noct.” 

_Noct._ He always said that word like he savored it, like he wanted to devour it, lingering on the final click of the c and drawing out the end. Noct let him guide his hips, rolling down again to let his jeans glide against the soft fabric of Ardyn’s pants.

“Will you fuck me,” Noct said, and Ardyn’s brows rose, “if I dressed up like Ravus? You know. Corsets and collars and shit. Evening gowns. I got a skirt in my closet, you know. Mini, black leather.”

“I don’t fuck Ravus for his clothes,” Ardyn said, with the tiniest smile.

“You like it, though.” Noct said. “You liked _me._ Or maybe you were pretending to because you hate your brother. Is it because he fucked me? Is it some weird degree of separation thing?”

“Please don’t speak of my brother while you’re... here,” Ardyn said.

“Well, fuck you,” Noct said, still seated in Ardyn’s lap. “I’m not trying to like, fuck my way into anything. I just thought you wanted me. You like people who are worth something.”

He draped his arms around Ardyn’s neck and leaned in close, his lips tickling the stubble of Ardyn’s cheeks.

“And I’m definitely worth something.”

“Hey.”

Noct winced as water struck the back of his neck, and twisted around to find the bartender holding a plastic spray bottle in one hand.

“What the fuck?”

“None of that shit at the bar,” she said. 

Ardyn wrapped an arm around Noct’s waist—he forgot how _massive_ Ardyn was, sometimes—and slid them both off the chair. “I believe I’ll take him home.”

“Yeah. Do that.” The bartender set down the bottle. “I swear, there’s something in the water these days.”

“I try not to think too hard about it,” Ardyn said, and started dragging Noct off.

“You’re such a fucking asshole,” Noct said, as Ardyn helped him into a waiting taxi. He smacked his head and rolled to the side, but Ardyn only lifted his legs to make room, moving him around like a discarded doll. Noct’s breath hitched at the thought, and Ardyn gave him a look that was far too amused for comfort.

“First you fuck me,” Noct said, plopping his legs over Ardyn’s lap. “Then you don’t. But you want to, but you don’t. I saw you when you looked at my sketchbook. You want to.”

Ardyn waited a minute, hands resting on Noct’s legs. “Yes?”

“Fuck my brain,” Noct said. “That’s what you want.”

“God help me,” Ardyn murmured.

They were silent a moment, letting the rumble of the taxi lull Noct into a hazy, half aware state, drifting on the verge of dreams. Noct thought of Ardyn’s fingers in Ravus’ hair, the fond, possessive way he moved him about during fittings, the quiet looks and unspoken words that hung between them. He’d been something to Somnus, he thought—He’d caught Somnus staring at him, sometimes, tracing the line of his jaw—but he hadn’t been able to hold onto it. Not the way he wanted to.

“What would you dress me in?” Noct asked. Ardyn looked at him, then, and there was something of Somnus in his eyes. “If you could.”

“My coat,” Ardyn said, and Noct saw his lips move, felt the brush of fingers on his shins, but he was already gone.

Noct woke at three in the morning, jolted into the dangerous middle ground between sobriety and the worst hangover in his fucking life, and reached blindly for his bedside lamp.

His hand fell through empty air, and Noct lurched, rolling onto his side.

He’d been in this bed before. He recognized the dark dresser drawers by the vanity mirror, the floral wallpaper, the strange copper relief that looked like a demon with curling horns and a wicked smile. He also recognized the man hunched at the narrow desk, scraping charcoal over a thin notebook. Ardyn’s hand moved deftly, with long gestures and the occasional pause to rub at the sheet with his thumb, which Noct remembered most of his professors warned against.

Ardyn didn’t seem to notice the creak of the bed as Noct slipped to the floor. His feet were bare, but he was still clothed, and he dimly recalled Ardyn dumping him onto the bed like a sack of potatoes before drifting away into the dark. He scrubbed a hand over his face and leaned over Ardyn’s shoulder.

Ardyn darkened the eyelashes of Noct’s own sleeping face on the sketch pad. It was lifelike, but softened, like Noct was sleeping in a bower of some kind instead of fully clothed in Ardyn’s bed, and Noct whistled low. Ardyn glanced at him, just a sideways slide of his gaze, and Noct lay a hand on the desk to brace himself.

“It’s nice,” he said.

“Yes, well.” Ardyn pushed the drawing aside and turned to get a better look at Noct, sitting sideways in his chair. “And how are we?”

“Think I’m getting a headache,” Noct said. “And I might’ve called my boss an asshole.”

Ardyn smiled. “Among other things.”

“Look. I’m sorry.” Noct crouched down a little, trying to get level with Ardyn’s face. “I shouldn’t’ve said that stuff. About, you know.”

“My wanting you?” Ardyn raised a hand to Noct’s face, tracing the line of his jaw. Noct held his breath. For a moment, in the dim light, Ardyn’s hair looked dark as ink. “You aren’t wrong.”

“And how do you want me?” Noct asked. 

Ardyn didn’t answer. He just ran his fingers through Noct’s hair, and when Noct grabbed his knees to leverage himself to the floor, Noct shook his head before he could say anything.

“I know,” he said. He pulled out the condom in his back pocket, and Ardyn kept stroking his hair as he tore it open, as he pressed his lips to the roses at Ardyn’s inner thigh, settled in the warmth of his body. And when his jaw ached and his right leg trembled, Noct let Ardyn guide him to the bathroom, where he lay him down in a vast, scented bath and took him the way Noct wanted. 

Back in Ardyn’s bed, wrapped up in one of Ardyn’s robes and mouthing over the marks he’d made on his collar, Noct paused to whisper into his neck.

“You’re keeping me.” Noct felt Ardyn’s fingers tighten on his hips, and smiled against his stubble. “Aren’t you?”

Ardyn didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to. This time, Noct already knew.


	3. Chapter 3

There was a time, Ardyn thought, as his newest lover pressed his lips to the rumpled sheets of his bed, that Ardyn never brought his partners home.

Home was a haven, then. An apartment he’d scraped together himself out of spite and pure will, cheap furniture crammed into corners while Ardyn pinned sketches on the wall, taking them down with each piece he managed to finish. Home was where it didn’t matter if he drank himself to sleep or cursed his brother’s smug, smiling face on fashion magazines, ripping them to shreds with no one to witness him. Home was safe.

Now, Noctis groaned into the bed, held down by Ardyn’s calloused hand at his neck, and ripped the cover off the mattress. 

Ardyn gently leaned over, putting his full weight into Noct, and lifted his hands off the sheets and onto the headboard.

“Mind the thread count,” he said.

“Fuck you,” Noct said, half laughing, and dug his fingers around the body of a carved nymph. 

The headboard was Ardyn’s first triumph. Stolen from the family basement in the middle of the night, it had loomed over mattresses too weak for its frame, a carved portrait of dancing wood nymphs that Somnus found tasteless and Ardyn had named, back in the day. There was Alia, just near Noct’s grasping left hand, there Galatea, there Gentiana. Ardyn wrapped his hand around one of Noct’s and rocked into him, making him sob and spill into the sheets.

“Okay,” Noct panted, holding his hand in a tight grip. “Okay, keep going, it’s okay...”

He was hissing curses under his breath by the time Ardyn wrapped him in an impenetrable embrace, rolling them both to an unsoiled side of the enormous, plush mattress. Noct laughed as he caught his breath—He always laughed more, during, Ardyn noticed—and collapsed while Ardyn stood to remove the condom and clean up. Ardyn could see him through the bathroom mirror, the muscles of his arms still swelling with the effort of holding onto the headboard, that scar like a flower unfolding on his back, feather-light strips of it curling over his waist and thighs.

Noct fell asleep like that, tangled up in Ardyn’s sheets with one hand dangling over the edge, while Ardyn sat down at his desk and pored through his notes until dawn came.

——

Something had to be done about Noctis.

Ravus stepped outside of his bedroom for the third morning in a row to Ardyn’s door open and the end of a robe draped over the chair near the window, where a scrawny, half naked figure lounged like the better breed of cat, practically purring in the sunrise.

Ravus and Ardyn both had their share of recurring lovers—they’d dated Aranea for a time, though the possibility of adding her as a third never came up. “I can only handle either of you in small doses,” she’d said once, zipping up her dress in Ravus’ bedroom. She’d looked at Ardyn, lounging on the bed like an ancient emperor in silks and furs, and rolled her eyes. “No offense.”

And it worked, in the end. More often than not, Ravus came home to find Ardyn littering the living room with art supplies, or antagonizing some poor soul over the phone with a glass of wine and a wicked smile. Ardyn usually found Ravus with his feet up at the window, the tension of the day bleeding out like an open wound. They knew how to handle each other, how to temper their wavering moods, to pursue and let go. Theirs was a delicate balance, and a third would only throw the whole affair out of line.

So when Ravus saw Noctis sleeping in his chair by the curtains yet again, he supposed he could be forgiven if he wasn’t feeling particularly charitable.

“Up.” He cuffed Noct lightly on the side of the head as he passed, and Noct blinked, tipping over to collapse on the arm of the chair. “Back to bed or out the door, Caelum.”

Noct gazed up at him through eyes narrowed to slits, but made no move to get up. “Don’t have a ride.”

“Well, I’m certainly not driving you home,” Ravus said. He made for the kitchen, where _someone_ had already brewed _his_ coffee, and rummaged for the tea instead. He could feel Noct’s gaze boring into the back of his head as he groped for the kettle, and whipped around, the hairs prickling at the back of his neck.

“Yes?”

Noct’s eyes were closed, his head resting listlessly on his knuckles. Ravus snapped his fingers, and Noct blinked slowly.

“Mm.”

“Is there an intention behind this?” Ravus asked. Noct squinted, and Ravus gestured at the apartment. “Are you looking for someone else to keep your power on and buy you groceries? Because you’ve been using quite a bit of ours.”

“I mean, technically, Ardyn _is_ paying for that,” Noct said. He yawned. “At home.”

“Then you should go there,” Ravus said, “and appreciate it better.”

Noct just kept staring, making the heat in Ravus belly rise to his throat, disdain twisting into something unnameable and fierce. “Were you like this with Luna?”

“Excuse me?”

“When you were kids,” Noct said. “I’m an only child, so I wouldn’t know. Were you jealous of _her?_”

Ravus felt his cheeks flush. “You aren’t a child,” he snapped.

“Well, yeah. _I’m_ not.”

Ravus took a step towards him, and Noct’s eyes brightened, suddenly more alert, almost expectant. Ravus groaned and turned away, and almost missed the sly smile hidden under Noct’s hand, small and far too pleased with himself. 

Noct didn’t stay the night the next day, but Ravus could feel his presence in the apartment nevertheless, in new sketches in Ardyn’s notebook, in pauses between his words, like the quiet that came before a heavy summer storm, heavy and oppressive. Ardyn was gentler with Ravus than he had a right to be, keeping him on edge, and didn’t even suggest the flogger or cuffs or spreader bar that lay untouched in the closet. It was as though he were waiting for Ravus to ask, which meant Ravus had to bear through soft touches and slow thrusts when what he needed lay just out of reach.

When Ardyn’s next show came, Ravus knew he was a wreck. Oh, his clothes were perfect. He was resplendent in an elaborate coat, skin-tight netting, and a corset that hugged his pecs and drew the eye to his broad shoulders, but he couldn’t keep still. He bummed a cigarette from Ignis out back, careful not to blow smoke near Ignis’ leopard print ensemble, and nearly tipped a thumbful of ash on his boots.

“Nerves?” Ignis asked. Ravus laughed darkly. 

“Trouble in the ranks,” Ravus said. Ignis smiled. Like Ravus, he’d fought in the Imperial war for a time, though his tour had been cut short. The scars on the left side of his face barely showed under his visor, but Ravus had touched them once or twice, in the comfort of Ignis’ apartment. He’d never asked, though, and neither had Ignis. They kept their relationship strictly surface level, which was all Ravus had needed at the time.

Now, watching the pink scars catch the light of the open door, he wondered.

“I heard,” Ignis said. “I’m sure Noct will prove himself in time.”

“You know of him?” Ravus dropped the cigarette, letting it burn out in the street. “Then you know how feckless he can be. Oh, he has talent, but he’s much more likely to lounge in the benefits of another man’s work until—“

“I should go,” Ignis said. His smile was fixed, and the cords of his neck were drawn tight. “I’ll see you at the after party, I’m sure.”

Ravus watched him go, clenching his fist in the folds of his robe, and swept after him. 

Ignis avoided him at the after party. He went right for Ardyn instead, smiling and laughing politely, and clasped Noct’s forearm in a tight grip before letting go. Noct laughed, and Ignis’ smile broadened.

Of course. Noct had already worked him. Ravus took a glass of weak white wine and left the empty glass on a passing tray, stalking towards the three of them. His robe was gone, at least, but he felt exposed in the open air, and with Ardyn’s hand on _Noctis’_ back, he drifted untethered in the sea of voices and laughter and tailored suits.

He’d almost reached Ardyn’s side when a voice called out above the din, young and high.

“Sergeant! Sarge!”

Ravus and Noct both jerked at the same time, and a strange transformation took over Noct, a slight lift to the shoulders, a tilt to his chin. He held himself straight, his feet sliding apart—At attention, Ravus realized, like a soldier in a line.

“Talcott.” Noct took a step forward. “Good to see you again.”

The young man racing through the crowd had short-cropped brown hair under a trucker cap and an earnest expression, and his jacket was dirty and weather-worn. He stopped in front of Noct and grinned.

“I just got back from Altissia, sir. Ignis invited me.”

“Sir?” Ravus murmured. Ardyn caught his eye and winked.

“He insisted,” Ignis said. “Talcott, my vision may be blurred at best, but I recognize that cap anywhere. You know I left you a suit.”

“Just got off work,” Talcott said. He clasped Noct’s forearm, just as Ignis had. “Can’t believe you’re doing this, Sarge. Dressing up models. Wow. And Prompto’s a photographer now, can you believe it? What happened?”

“We have lives, Talcott,” Noct said. He lifted his cap to ruffle his hair. “Come on, I’ll catch you up. You get to see the show at all?”

He slung an arm around Talcott’s narrow shoulders and towed him out of sight, through the slightly scandalized crowd. 

“What company you keep,” Ardyn said, touching Ignis on the arm. Ignis shrugged a shoulder.

“He’s a boy we knew in Altissia,” Ignis said. “During the war.”

Ardyn caught Ravus’ eye again. _Damn_ him, he’d already known. “I wasn’t aware you served.”

“Hasn’t everyone?” Ignis inclined his head towards Ravus, who drew closer. “Noct was from a military family, so he felt an obligation. I volunteered a year before.” He turned a meaningless smile toward Ravus. “You were in the Tenebraean forces, weren’t you?”

Ravus didn’t return his smile. Ardyn touched his lower back, and Ravus stiffened. “For a time.”

“Well, it’s all over now,” Ardyn said. “Good riddance to the empire or what have you.” He glanced back at the crowd, where Noct was just a flicker of dark hair against the finery. “I’m surprised he didn’t include his service in his resume. I wondered about that gap, you know.”

Ravus tried to give him a look, but Ardyn purposely avoided his gaze. Ignis coughed uncomfortably. 

“It was a little... chaotic. After our sergeant died, and the...” He gestured vaguely at his face. “I think we’d all rather leave that chapter of our lives behind.”

Ravus knew that even if Ardyn had been young enough to join the infantry during the fighting in Accordo, he wouldn’t have. His family home was enough of a battleground, in Ravus’ limited knowledge. He didn’t begrudge him what peace he’d gained. Still, there were some subjects they didn’t broach, and the strained look on Ignis’ face was enough. Ravus murmured his apologies and turned on his heel.

The crowd melted around him as he passed. Noct seemed to have his hooks in everything in Ravus’ life—It wasn’t enough that he’d flirted with Luna, or charmed his lover, or wormed his way into Ravus’ new career. He was always shadowing him, creeping behind him, finding a new way to sink in his claws when Ravus’ back was turned. He had some talent—a few new shirts and coats in Ravus’ wardrobe proved that, at least—but he was still a burglar, breaking into Ravus’ window with a bottle of wine and unscrupulous intentions.

Ravus found Noct leaning against a wall with Talcott, laughing softly. He’d swapped jackets with the boy, and was doing up his buttons with the air of an older brother, tugging at the collar and adjusting the fit of his shoulders.

“There,” he said. “That’ll fool Specs.”

“Never,” Talcott said. He passed his hat over to Noct and grinned as it pushed down his carefully gelled hair. “It’s weird to see you like this, Sarge.”

“Like what? You know I was born for high society, Talcott.”

Talcott snorted. Ravus slipped behind a banner, too aware of the way his shadow slid along the stairs. “Not that. Like, you know. Relaxed. You look good. Better. You look better.”

Noct’s gaze softened. “You, too. Go in there before Ignis comes out, okay?”

“Yes sir.” Talcott pulled off a salute and trotted past Ravus, up the stairs and into the bright gallery where the after party still rang with music. Noct didn’t turn to watch him go. He just hunched his shoulders in his borrowed jacket, tugged down the cap, and stared into the dark.

“Hey,” he said. Ravus stepped out from behind the banner. “Nice night, huh.”

“The way Ardyn puts it,” Ravus said, descending into the shadow of the gallery, “you’re the kind of man who propositions people in clubs. And we both know you’re the kind of man who will climb a drainpipe at midnight if there’s something in it for you. And here you are...” He lifted the brim of the cap, peering into his eyes. “Who are you, Noctis? What are you here for?”

“Nothing,” Noct said, batting his hand away. His smile was fainter now, half hidden in the shadow. “I’m here because I want to be.”

“Really.” Ravus reached for his collar, and Noct held up his arm to block him. He twisted, grasping at his shirt, and Noct took hold of his arm—Avoiding his prosthetic even as he tried to wrench Ravus’ arm behind his back. Ravus hissed as he was dragged further into the dark, and a powerful hand—too strong for Noct’s frame, too strong not to spark something deep in the core of him, something he tried to hold back even as his face was pushed into the stone wall and his legs hooked by Noct’s, bent nearly double by the not unpleasant burn of pain in his arm—

“Alright,” Noct hissed. “Alright, I didn’t think it mattered—“

“Let _go_ of me—“ Ravus ground his teeth as Noct’s leg shifted, and he struggled to hide the heat rising up his neck. 

“Cause it’s over now, and you paid for it,” Noct whispered. Ravus went still. Noct’s fingers curled and flexed against his neck. “But you can’t go around acting like I’m some kind of criminal. Not you.”

Laughter drifted in from the gallery, light and faint, too distant to be real.

“Maybe you don’t know who I am,_ Ravus,_” Noct said. “But I know who _you_ are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “I’m gonna keep this slice of life!” I said. “Super chill! No serious subplots!”
> 
> Hahahahaha


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, work was really slow today and everyone ELSE was working on side projects, soooOoo
> 
> WARNING for violence in this one, including mention of dead people. If you don’t want to read the parts featuring the war, skip ahead past the line break.

Sergeant Nyx Ulric of the Lucian Glaives was brought to his knees on a cold spring morning, just as the sun strained through the storm clouds of Altissia. His lover, a young corporal with the stars of Lucis pinned to his shoulder, stepped over his body and grabbed the sword of the Imperial general who had struck him down. It was easier to fight with swords at close range, but the corporal’s sword was gone, lost in the rain-churned canals, and he ignored the blood dripping down his palm as he wrenched the sword out of the general’s hands.

“Ignis is down!” A voice. The corporal knew that voice, but all he could focus on was the sergeant’s shuddering gasps, echoing between the ringing in his ears. He looked into the eyes of the general towering over him and twisted the sword in his blood-slick hands.

The general dragged at his uniform as he fell. One of the stars on the corporal’s shoulder ripped free, clenched in a heavy fist, and he turned a cold, glassy gaze to what was left of the squad.

His squad.

“Don’t worry,” he said. Blood dripped down his fingers, coating them like the skin of a glove. “I’ll get you home.”

The streets of Altissia were a chaos of rubble and rain, and the corporal—the sergeant, now, while the radios were down—dragged his lover’s unconscious body himself, while Ignis held onto one of his fellows, cursing softly under his breath. It was easy to get lost in the sound of the city collapsing around them, the roar of fire, the stutter of machine guns. The sergeant held his stolen sword in one hand and kept low, ducking behind a stone wall, and signaled his men to cover as voices rang out in the square below.

He glanced over the wall just in time to see a man in the uniform of the empire level a gun at his captain’s back.

The sergeant struggled to process the figures on the ground before the captain. Bodies—Civilians—children, children in the square, unmoving. 

A ribbon crept across the square, jerked forward by the march of the rain.

The imperial soldier’s hands shook as he pulled the trigger.

——

A set of ornamental rosebushes framed the entrance of the gallery, perfectly trimmed and bursting with color. They were imported specially from a nursery in the south, covered in tarp every time the weather dropped a degree below the recommended range, and featured on every page of the gallery website.

Noctis went crashing into them with all the force of Ravus’ considerable right hook, tilted his borrowed hat, and spat blood through his teeth.

“You dare,” Ravus said, striding towards him. His shirt was a disaster, his corset trailing strings, but the moment he came within arms reach, Noct grabbed him by the shoulders and threw them both into the grass.

“I’m not fucking—“ Noct caught Ravus’ fist with both hands. “Blackmailing you.”

“This was premeditated,” Ravus snarled. Noct swung him around, rolling them into the bushes, and winced as thorns dragged at his neck. “You came here to _ruin_ me.”

“This isn’t about you,” Noct said. He pushed Ravus’ hand down and gripped his neck with the other. He could feel Ravus’ pulse beating hard against his fingers. “You think I blame you? I know why you tried to defect. Why you left. I get it. But I’m not the one hiding shit, okay? I’m not the one looking for protection.”

“You think—“ Ravus’ chest heaved beneath him. Noct locked his legs around Ravus’ thighs, and felt the mesh of his leggings drag at his trousers. Ravus’ breath hitched under his hand. “You think I’m with Ardyn for _protection?_”

“You got a reason to disappear, anyways,” Noct said. “To stay in Lucis. Away from the empire.” 

Ravus tried to push Noct aside, but he pressed his fingers down, and Ravus’ breath stuttered. He released him again, and shifted as the thin, silky cloth beneath Ravus’ leggings rucked up just a fraction.

“Fuck,” Noct said, starting at the bulge he felt there. “Really?”

“To hell with you,” Ravus snarled. He forced himself up and pulled Noct with him. Noct bumped into his collarbone, smearing blood over his bare skin, and Ravus pushed him away in disgust. Noct couldn’t help the grin that threatened to break out at that—Ravus, Luna’s disdainful brother, terrified and furious and _wanting_ him.

“What?” Noct said. “Lost your nerve?”

Ravus wrapped his fist in Noct’s shirt collar, and Noct grabbed Ravus in turn, swinging him into the darkness at the corner of the building. They grappled a moment, Noct grinning, Ravus’ teeth bared, and then Ravus’ back was hitting the wall and he was biting at Noct’s lower lip, tasting the blood that welled there. 

Noct tugged at the strings of Ravus’ corset as Ravus wrenched at Noct’s hair, biting marks down his neck. Noct kissed him back, tore at the mesh of his leggings, swallowed down the animal sound in Ravus’ throat as he took him in hand. It was quick and messy and probably the worst idea Noct ever had, but Ravus’ face as he came undone was almost soft, and Noct kissed him properly in the aftermath.

“I don’t give a shit what side you were on,” Noct said. “And the world doesn’t revolve around you. I’m not here to ruin your life.”

“The hell you aren’t,” Ravus gasped, and kissed him again.

Ardyn found them in Ravus’ car twenty minutes later, fogging up the glass while Noct left half moon indentations on the leather, pants pushed down to his knees. Noct peered up at Ardyn from where his face was mashed to the seat, and Ardyn’s dry gaze swept over them, lingering on the mess they’d made of Ravus’ outfit.

“That’s coming out of your pay, Noct,” he drawled, and held up his phone. “You have ten minutes before I drive you home.”

Ravus cursed and gripped Noct’s hips tight enough to bruise.

——

Ardyn suggested, when they were all sitting rather awkwardly in the living room with Ravus in Ardyn’s coat while Ardyn carefully taped up Noct’s bottom lip, that they should probably talk it out.

They didn’t.

——

Something was locked away in Noctis, that day in Altissia. He wasn’t sure what. He just knew it was a part of him, some small essential cog in the machine that kept him going, and the split second it took to watch his lover fall was part of it. It was what allowed him to shrug the army off like a second skin, to hide his medals in his trunk, to meet with old friends and fellow soldiers and sketch clothes that would work for them. To bring his portfolio to Somnus. He’d seen it happen to Ravus, too, but Ravus couldn’t lock himself away forever. He was constantly trying to break out, pushing against his own bonds, desperate, raging.

——

The first time Noct fucked him pliant, Ravus watched him as Noct kissed his scarred shoulder. His eyes were bright, and Noct gave him a curious look, pressing his cheek to the crook of his shoulder.

“Tried to touch you,” Ravus whispered. 

Noct silently raised Ravus’ hand and kissed his fingers, one by one.

——

“You may as well move in, then,” Ravus said one afternoon. Noct lounged in Ardyn’s lap, idly drawing on Ardyn’s bare leg, while Ardyn kneaded his hair with one hand and flipped through his appointment book with the other. Noct and Ardyn both looked up, and Ravus blinked.

“At least he’d be paying rent.”

Noct grinned, and Ardyn tugged at his roots, a quiet reminder to _behave._ “It’s decided, then,” he said, and turned another page.

Noct said nothing. He just went back to sketching patterns on Ardyn’s leg, content in just an undershirt he’d stolen from Ravus’ closet, and hummed softly to himself. Ravus watched them for a minute, then pressed his forehead to the window, closing his eyes to the bright, welcoming warmth of a clear Lucian sky.


	5. Chapter 5

Noct was at Ignis’ townhouse in south Insomnia, stubbornly trying to befriend the grey cat that had taken up residence in the pantry, when he got the call.

For a second, while the cat in question went scrambling into a dark corner and growled ominously, he just stared at the screen. Ravus never actually called him. Oh, there were some text messages, all short and to the point—_Pick up dry-cleaning. Wash your dishes_—but if he wanted Noct, he tended to just... find him. Eventually. It was actually a little unsettling.

Noct cast one last mournful look at Ignis’ new cat, sighed, and answered the phone.

“_Thank_ you,” Ravus said. His voice was hoarse, strained—like the time Ardyn accidentally tied the laces of a steel-boned corset a _little_ too tight, and he and Ravus had to lock Noct out of the studio for an hour while they dealt with it. “I need you here. He’s in a state.”

“Game night, sorry,” Noct said. Which was technically true, even if they’d all given up on cards about two beers in. “What kind of state?”

“The _A guest to Somnus’ engagement party unknowingly hired Ardyn to design an outfit, and now I’m covered in fucking _chains _while he drinks expensive whiskey straight from the bottle_ state.”

“Huh,” Noct said. “Didn’t know Somnus was seeing anyone.” His chest felt strangely tight. It had only been eight months, maybe nine, since Noct had called... whatever they had off. That was plenty of time for someone to fall in love. Probably.

Not Somnus, though. Noct thought of all the times Somnus refused to touch his hand in public, the frantic trysts in dark closets and spare rooms, the way he rolled aside when Noct tried to touch him, after, his gaze unreadable and cold. 

“He’s already inhaled most of my cigarettes,” Ravus added. “He came down from the roof smelling like a—Watch where you put that pin!”

“I’ll go,” Noct said. “Don’t let him do anything stupid.”

Ravus laughed hollowly, and the line went dead.

The guys didn’t object when Noct said he had to run—Even if Ignis gave him a searching look as Noct tugged on his jacket. He strode out into the chill air and stamped his boots on the thin sheen of ice over the sidewalk, then carefully made his way to the subway.

He sat in the rocking, rattling train car, hands between his knees. After things fell apart with his sergeant... and he didn’t blame him, not really, not even after he dragged him all the way to the med truck himself... he’d thrown himself at people who didn’t really give a shit. That guy in Galdin, when Noct was separating from the military. Somnus, who treated him like a living, somewhat bewildering ornament half the time. Maybe even Ravus, who at least acted like he didn’t care, but... Noct sighed and scraped his hands over his face. It was a mess. He shouldn’t have had to worry what an ex boss was doing with his life now that Noct’s ass wasn’t in it.

His knee was acting up again—Clouds on the horizon, the aching pressure of a storm building—and he massaged his joints as he rode the elevator to the apartment. He reminded himself to check on Ravus, who always fell into a foul mood when his shoulder started to ache, and twisted the key in the front door only to find it partially ajar. He frowned slightly, sidling into the foyer, and froze, one hand still on the handle.

“Right,” he said.

Ravus gave him a long suffering look.

A dozen silver chains jingled.

Ardyn, one hand gripping the stem of a nearly empty bottle, raised his phone to Ravus’ face and squinted. He was swaying on his feet, his head tilted in a dangerous look that reminded Noct too much of Somnus in a mood, and his white, voluminous shirt was hanging open, revealing the soft, slight paunch of his belly and a good handful of dark chest hair.

Ravus, meanwhile, was wearing a slip of black for modesty’s sake, a leather collar that looked like it came out of Ardyn’s private box, and too many useless, slithery chains to count. They looped around his wrists, strung through the hoop of his collar, trailed messily up his leather sandals, and slid down the curve of his spine. Noct sucked on his teeth, and Ardyn swung round to face him.

“Ah,” he said. “Noct. Good to have you here. What do you think?”

Noct struggled for words. Ravus stared at him, almost entreating.

“Huh,” he said.

“It’s _commentary,_” Ardyn drawled, and stopped to take a swig from the bottle. “On the _bonds_ of matrimony. And family,” he added darkly, raising the bottle to his lips again. Noct stepped forward and gently took the bottle from his grip, and Ardyn raised his brows. “Were you ever engaged to be married, Noct?”

“Not really,” Noct said. He glanced at Ravus. “Everyone thought, uh, me and Luna...”

“Darling, she’s gay,” Ardyn said.

“I know that.”

“Please,” Ravus said, raising his shoulders. The scrap of cloth covering his crotch slipped a few inches. “I’ve suffered enough.”

Ardyn’s eyes flashed. “Oh, _have_ you?”

“Alright,” Noct said. He set the bottle down on the counter, and Ardyn lunged for it. “Okay. We’re gonna go to bed.”

“Not before I’m done,” Ardyn said, ceding under Noct’s firm touch. “Unlike some, I have work to finish. A reputation to uphold. It’s very important,” he said, as Noct slowly pushed him towards the master bedroom, “to keep up appearances, when you’re the head of the Izunia line. We’ve had—“ he blinked. “Three counts, an earl. A duke. Duchess...”

Out of the corner of his eye, Noct saw Ravus hurriedly slipping out of his makeshift outfit. Chains curled to the ground at his feet, and Ardyn winced. It wasn’t much, just a flicker of an eyelid, but it was there.

“A banker,” Ardyn said, swaying in the doorway. Noct looked over his shoulder at the ornate headboard, the antique furniture cobbled together, the enormous bed with heavy black curtains. He grabbed Ardyn by the shoulders and swung him towards the guest room, which had, in the past few months, become Noct’s.

Ravus grabbed Ardyn by the hair, tugging faintly on the roots, and Ardyn’s eyes fluttered shut.

“Three lawyers,” he said, in a slurred murmur. “One disappointment.”

“Help me get him on the bed,” Noct said, kicking open his door. “Why didn’t you stop him?”

Ravus gave him an incredulous look. “I wanted to know why. Don’t you?”

“I’m not a child,” Ardyn was saying, stumbling over discarded clothes and papers. Ravus’ lip curled in distaste. 

“Yeah, okay,” Noct said. “On the bed.”

“I’m not one of your soldiers, either,” Ardyn drawled. He collapsed on Noct’s bed with a scream of springs, and Noct sat down to take off his shoes. “You can’t order me about. Back in the day, people like me would have commanded people like you.”

“Okay, your majesty,” Noct said. He shoved the shoes under the bed, and tugged at the sheets, rolling Ardyn slightly. Ardyn stared up at him, eyelids drooping, and reached up to touch Noct’s cheek.

“He didn’t deserve you,” he said. “Sweet thing.”

“Sure. Thanks,” Noct said. “I’ll come back, okay?”

Ardyn watched him go, his tousled hair sliding over his cheeks, as Noct fled for the hallway.

“Fuck,” he said, nearly bumping into Ravus by the door. “Did you get any of that?”

Ravus shrugged a shoulder. He’d put on an open robe, a violet one Noct had modified for when he wanted his shoulder to breathe, and his prosthetic was lying on the table, still tangled in chains. Noct sat down to straighten the silver while Ravus stalked to the kitchen for tea.

“What was that about?” Noct asked. “Dukes and earls?”

“Our Ardyn comes from royalty,” Ravus said, tipping a generous amount of leaves in a tea ball. “Or so I hear. His family still acts like they’re in line for the Lucian throne, all three branches of them. They’re always trying to bring each other down. You don’t read the gossip magazines? The Izunias?”

“Somnus used to go to photoshoots sometimes,” Noct said. “Your finger’s chipped.”

“I know. I’m always banging the blasted thing on the doorframe.” Ravus tucked two cups under his arm and maneuvered them onto the table while the kettle boiled. “But I hear the Izunias take great stock in appearing flawless. Not an ounce of scandal is permitted.”

“Uh.” Noct pointed to himself, and Ravus actually smiled.

“No one would believe you.”

“Ouch.”

“It’s true.” Ravus propped his chin on his hand, watching Noct’s fingers work at the slippery chains crisscrossing his prosthetic. “You’d need much worse than that to fall out of favor as an Izunia.”

“You think that happened to Ardyn,” Noct suggested. Ravus shrugged.

“This is the most he’s spoken of it. The client who commissioned him didn’t know he was an Izunia—He never uses the name, you know. But as soon as he heard it was for Somnus’ engagement party...”

“That’s what gets me,” Noct said. “Somnus didn’t want to settle down. He hated the thought of anyone, you know. Sticking around.”

Ravus regarded him silently for a moment. “And if that’s changed?”

Noct’s grip slipped on a chain. “Good for him, I guess.”

The look in Ravus’ eyes was too calculating to be pity, but it made Noct feel uncomfortable all the same, like he was being examined under a microscope. He slid the last of the chains over the chipped hand, letting them roll into a knot, and pushed himself back from the table.

“See what you can find out,” Ravus said, in a low voice. “He just may tell you.”

Noct grimaced in reply, and turned aside just as the kettle started to whistle.

Ardyn was half asleep by the time Noct stripped down to his boxers and climbed into bed. Noct spooned him, scooting up the bed a little to do it properly, a hand sliding under his shirt to hold his hip. Ardyn hummed a little, and tilted his head back to look at Noct.

“What was it like?” he asked, after a long minute of silence. “Being an only child?”

“I was probably spoiled,” Noct said, and Ardyn smiled. “But I had no frame of reference, so I turned out okay.”

“I was spoiled as well,” Ardyn said. He rolled over, taking Noct’s hand in his. He traced over Noct’s hand with his fingers, scraping over callouses, rubbing his palm. “The best tutors. Best schools. Best clothes. I had a horse, you know.”

“Really.”

“She knew dressage.”

Noct groaned. “Of course she did. How fucking rich were you?”

Teeth flashed, slow and wicked. “Very. Then I was very poor, for a time. Now I’m not. The world turns, Noctis. Our fortunes turn with it.”

Noct sighed and pushed Ardyn’s hair back to kiss his forehead. “Just don’t get alcohol poisoning, okay? Ravus and I will kill each other without you.”

“Nonsense,” Ardyn said. He wrapped Noct in a tight embrace, rolling him in the sheets. Noct resigned himself to being trapped under a heavy arm for the rest of the night. “You’d probably get married. Have respectable children.”

“Yeah, okay,” Noct said, and kneaded his hair the way Ravus had earlier. Ardyn sank a little, melting into the bed. “Whatever you say, your majesty.”

“Be warned,” Ardyn murmured, as he drifted off in Noct’s bed. “I may get used to that.”


	6. Chapter 6

If Noct thought that the news of Somnus’ engagement would drift into the background where it belonged, he was sorely mistaken. Ravus had a show that week, and was last seen traipsing through the apartment at three in the morning like a highly made-up ghost, which meant Ardyn was left to vent his feelings through Noct. Noct spent much of his time folded in half under Ardyn’s bulk, or pressed up against the wall, or, on one memorable occasion, on his knees with his arms strapped behind his back while Ardyn’s thrusts rocked him into the headboard. He had an imprint of a nymph on his shoulder afterwards, while Ardyn unstrapped his arms and repositioned Noct so his hands were tied to either side of the headboard.

He stared at Noct for a moment, spread out beneath him, and reached for the cuffs.

“Not quite right,” he said, and Noct sighed as he was promptly unlocked. The cuffs stayed on, though, padded leather sliding against his wrists as Noct ran his hands over Ardyn’s broad back, and the scrape of them on Ardyn’s skin seemed to spur him on. Noct felt rather than heard him whispering into his neck, lips moving as he rocked into Noct so hard that Noct felt an uncomfortable twinge at the base of his spine. He dug his hands in Ardyn’s hair, dragging him up.

“Easy, big guy,” he whispered.

Ardyn finished over his ass, which was the kind of filthy shit Ravus scoffed at but secretly wanted more than life itself, but he had the sense of mind to clean him up after. He even massaged Noct, carefully probing around his sore back, until Noct sank into the sheets, warmth blooming in his chest.

“I get why Ravus likes this stuff so much,” Noct said, as Ardyn’s sure hands rubbed at a knot in his shoulder. “I could get used to this part.”

“That’s because you like being pampered,” Ardyn said, and Noct could hear the smile in his voice.

“We should do it the other way around sometime,” Noct murmured. “Get you tied up on the bed—“

Ardyn’s hands stilled on Noct’s back.

“Ravus’ll do the flogging. I’ll do the aftercare.”

There was a slight pause as Ardyn’s nails dug just faintly into Noct’s skin.

“I’ll have to take a rain check,” Ardyn said. He resumed kneading Noct’s shoulders. “I enjoy the use of my hands far too much to be restrained. As do you, it seems.”

“Shut up. It’s nice.”

He turned to kiss Ardyn, slow and lingering—just the way he liked it—and reached down to take Ardyn in hand. It ruined their attempt at clean-up, sure, but it was worth it to have Ardyn braced over him, breathing hard in Noct’s shoulder as he came undone, a smile brushing Noct’s neck. 

Ravus came to them a few hours later, shoving Noct unceremoniously to the side while he was putting the finishing touches on a difficult assignment of Ardyn’s. The book went flying as Ravus, dressed in a buttoned military-style coat with an imperial to the sleeve, climbed bare-assed into bed. Noct eyed the jacket warily, but Ravus ignored him in favor of stealing Ardyn’s pillow and fluffing it under him.

“My last walk was tonight,” he said, and Ardyn’s smile took on a thin, wicked edge. “So you can, as they say, bench the spare.”

“No one says that,” Noct said, leaning over to pick his book up off the floor.

Ravus turned to give Noct a scathing retort, but Ardyn chose that moment to adjust his tablet and speak, quiet but firm.

“Noct. If you will get Ravus ready for bed. He’s rather overdressed.”

“I hardly think—“ Ravus stilled as Noct touched his neck, just the faintest brush of his fingers. Noct rolled over, straddled Ravus’ long legs, and started unbuttoning his coat.

Ardyn scanned through his designs as Noct slid the coat down Ravus’ shoulders. Noct met Ravus’ gaze, not even grinning at the heat in his cheeks as he normally would, and got to work on his shirt. Ravus’ breath hitched as Noct pulled it open, and Noct let the silk slide over his fingers, falling about Ravus’ bare hips. 

He stopped at the prosthetic—the chipped one again, fashioned with a fitted false glove. Ravus took a breath, and Noct carefully eased the prosthetic free, letting Ravus’ shoulder breathe.

“Fuck him silent,” Ardyn said from his spot on the bed, several hundred miles away.

No one said a word.

——

The invitation sat on the wire tabletop of Ifrit’s Fancy, a half coffee shop, half burger place nestled in the most expensive strip mall known to man. The edges of the card were trimmed with gold, and the words were hand-lettered, written in calligraphy that had gone out of style several centuries back.

Somnus folded his napkin in an elaborate triangle, propping it up on his plate. Ardyn had the same habit—neither of them count keep their hands still, but Somnus’ movements were methodical and slow, as though he were afraid of startling the napkin with sudden movement. Everything he did was that way, Noct realized, except for those brief, tense moments he’d had Noct pressed against him, all heat and sharp breath and bad decisions. Noct lifted his glass to his lips.

“I saw your designs at the Orange Blossom show last week,” Somnus said. “With the, ah. Veteran models.”

“You can say disabled,” Noct said. He picked up the invitation, running the rough edges against his palm. “So. Gilgamesh, huh.”

He’d seen Gilgamesh once or twice. He wasn’t part of Somnus’ company, but he visited the studio where the assistant designers worked once or twice, a massive, muscular man with a missing left arm and long white hair. He hadn’t even spared Noct a glance, choosing to disappear into Somnus’ office for a few minutes for every visit, before he disappeared yet again.

“You could at least attempt to build up to—“ Somnus closed his eyes for a breath. “Yes. Gilgamesh.” He unfolded his napkin. Folded it again. “He’s from a prominent family. The matriarchs approve, and if I’m to have heirs, I’ll need a partner for the look of it—“

“Heirs?” Noct sputtered. He couldn’t imagine Somnus in the same room as a dirty diaper, let alone getting his hands on one.

“It’s long overdue,” Somnus said. “It’s expected. Regardless, Gilgamesh is an old friend. He understands what must be done. I know this is... perhaps unwise, but you always struck me as a practical man. I don’t see why you shouldn’t be extended an invitation to the wedding.”

“With a plus one,” Noct said. 

Somnus said nothing.

“You want me to take him?” Noct asked. Somnus cleared his throat.

“It would be a scandal,” he said. “He’s been banned from family gatherings—“

“Since he broke your nose,” Noct said. “Yeah, I know.”

“That was simply the end of his formal invitation to properly grovel for forgiveness,” Somnus said, in a dry voice Noct knew all too well, now. “You should ask him about my coming of age ceremony.”

“Your what? People do that?”

Somnus sighed. “Izunias do. This won’t be awkward, will it? If you go? I know it isn’t exactly good manners to invite someone you...”

“Fucked regularly,” Noct said, picking up a fry. Somnus’ mouth thinned a little. “It’s fine. I think we’re both in a better place, now.”

Somnus gave him one of those strange, bewildered looks he used to make when they were together, when Noct would turn to him and sigh or wrap an arm around his shoulders. Like Noct was an alien creature—Or Somnus was, struggling vainly to understand the strange mannerisms of this new life form. That was the difference, Noct knew. Ardyn could cut through Noct in a second, exposing everything in his path—but Somnus was a traveler without a map, unable to piece together even a blurry image of who Noct was.

“I’ll go,” Noct said. “But I can’t make any promises.”

“Thank you.” Somnus reached for Noct’s hands, but he pulled away. “And Noctis. Your designs... you’re still very new to be on a runway, but Ardyn may be right to promote you.” Noct leaned back in his chair. “I couldn’t... well. My family did not get to where we are by taking unnecessary risks. That’s Ardyn’s forte.”

“Good thing I quit, then,” Noct said, and Somnus’ look of discomfort broke for a moment, revealing the surprised, half-smiling face of a man Noct didn’t know. 

“Yes,” Somnus said. “Perhaps you’re right.”

——

“Little Somnus having second thoughts?” 

Ardyn laughed into the gleaming silver cuff he was embroidering, holding it up to the light of the large window at his back. His needle snaked in and out of the stiff cloth like a fish, and his hair against the glass was haloed a faint auburn, making him look like an obscure god of sewing who just happened to emerge fully formed on the window seat. His knees bent—He’d propped his feet on Ravus’ shoulders, boots and all, and Ravus shifted uncomfortably at the sound of the door opening—but he just tapped Ravus’ cheek gently with the toe of his boot, and Ravus settled down again.

Noct set his leftovers in the fridge. It was an odd thing, sometimes, what Ardyn and Ravus had, but Ravus needed it after a stressful show. Just quiet, firm orders, the pressure of Ardyn’s boot, and the touch of gloves on his neck. Ravus met Noct’s gaze once before he sank back into whatever brief, peaceful state Noct had interrupted, and Noct closed the fridge door.

“Thought you’d be more upset,” Noct said. He strode over, trying to ignore Ravus at his feet—he preferred that, anyway—and held out the envelope. Ardyn took it gingerly and tugged the card free.

“Of course it was Gil,” Ardyn said. “Poor soul. Tell him no.” He passed the card back, and Noct took an unsteady breath.

“The invitation’s for me. And a plus one.” 

Ardyn looked at the card again, brows raised.

“Too distracting,” Ravus said, in a low rumble. “Save it for after.”

“Oh, no,” Ardyn said. “It’s no matter. Good for you, Noct. I’ll have to find you something to wear. Something to remind him of what he could have, if he weren’t so far up his own ass he could—“

Ravus sat up again. “Excuse me,” he said. “I have had a terrible week. I was dressed in _tulle._ I had to walk a _dog_ on an _escalator_ in heels. Unless one of you wants to get out the flogger and a nice glass of red, possibly a gag for _this_ one, then I’m going to go to the bar and find someone who will.”

Ardyn let Noct take the card back. “You know that’s my hard rule, Ravus.”

Noct gave Ravus a curious look, and Ravus rolled his eyes.

“We aren’t exclusive,” he drawled, “but our play _is._”

“Wait,” Noct said, as Ardyn slowly got up, setting his sewing aside. “But I’ve tied you up before.”

“Because you can be trusted,” Ardyn said. “Imagine, coming to a strange person’s house, only to be chained up to the bed and left there—“

“You had me in a collar the second night,” Ravus snapped. 

“Yes. I know. You’re insatiable.”

“Okay,” Noct said. “You’re not in the zone for this right now.” He crouched on his heels in front of Ravus. “Paddle or flogger? Okay, flogger. Right. You make dinner, and I’ll give you some marks, okay?”

“Agreed.”

“You’re too transactional about this, Noct,” Ardyn said, but he settled again anyways, sinking into the window seat as Noct bowed Ravus to Ravus’ room.

He showed up halfway through, watching as Noct made Ravus grit down sobs in the sheets. He waited until Ravus was asleep, pleasantly spent and surrounded by pillows, before he beckoned Noct to the living room.

“Ardyn,” Noct said. “If this is about—“

“I still want to dress you,” Ardyn said. Noct stopped, still swimming with the heady feeling of maneuvering a pliant Ravus in his arms. “For the wedding. My family will eat you alive if you aren’t your best, and I have...” he wrapped a hand around Noct’s wrist, engulfing it. “A few ideas. Something to elevate the evening.”

“Sure,” Noct said, as Ardyn’s hand slid up his arm, his gaze already distant with the plans to come. “But you’re coming with me.”

Ardyn only smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes Noct doms Ravus for small favors. Ardyn feels slightly affronted by this, as it seems to remove the intensity from a scene, but it works for them.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for bad parenting. There’s also an instance of bad domming later on.

At five-thirty in the morning, three alarms rang in the large, second floor master bedroom of the Izunia family manor.

Crystal dragons twined under the window-side table flickered with blue light as a phone vibrated across the surface. Marble deer stared dispassionately down at ancient rugs and glass figurines. A small row of books lined the bottom shelf of a heavy bookcase; _The Case Brothers At It Again, Case and Casey’s First Adventure, Light at the End of the Trainyard._ Children’s books. Flimsy, plastic covers cracked with use. Pages bursting from too many accidental dunks in the bath.

Somnus Izunia slid out of bed.

He took down his robe from a hook next to the headboard and tied it taut at the waist. Two knots, just to be safe. He turned off the alarms in order, long fingers sliding over buttons and catches, letting the manor fall into an uneasy silence.

Before him, the founder king of Lucis looked out from an oil painting on wood, covered by glass for protection. Somnus regarded the painting for a moment, surrounded by the trappings of his family legacy.

Then he went to the hall to take a shower.

Five minutes. The alarm in the bathroom went off.

Ten minutes to recover. Mousse. Shaving cream for the stubble creeping along his jaw. Furtive glances at the mirror. Water slopping over the marble sink, pushing toothpaste down the drain.

The phone alarm went off again. He called his assistant. His proper one, not the nonsense position he’d made for Noctis, that last terrifying disruption in his structured life. Her name was Crowe, and she was brilliant and terrible all at once, too world-weary to care what Somnus did for a living.

“Yeah, so you have a photoshoot scheduled,” she said in lieu of greeting. “11:30am. Late lunch with mom at two. You need to change for that, I guess. Meet first surrogate at six.”

“Cancel that last appointment,” Somnus said. He buttoned his suit jacket and pinned his cuffs.

“I can reschedule. This is a mom appointment, though. Mompointment.”

“Of course. Let me know when. Preferably with twenty-four hours’ notice.”

Crowe clicked her tongue in response, and Somnus turned off the call.

The phone rang again.

“You aren’t in the office,” his mother said, when Somnus finally picked up the phone.

“I’m working at home this morning,” he said. He strode through the long corridor on the first floor, where portraits of Izunias past frowned at him sagely. Kings. Queens. Senators. Lawyers. Rulers of a fashion empire.

“Well, I saw your schedule changed today. You can’t put off hiring a surrogate. The lesser branches have six children between them, and by the time we were your age, your father and I had one viable heir at least.”

Somnus stopped at the last family portrait on the line. A husband and wife, both equally severe in grey and white, sitting against a sunny landscape of foothills they’d never seen before. Two boys sat at their feet. His gaze slid past the small, gangly child with black hair and a nervous smile, and stopped at the older boy with an arm swung over his brother’s shoulder. Someone had scraped at the paint over his face, leaving it a distorted mess of paint and ripped canvas, but there was still a hint of red hair, of a twisted lump that could have been a smile.

“Of course,” Somnus said. “I understand.”

——

“Someone’s coming!”

Ardyn Izunia, twelve years old and already growing out of his tailored slacks, looked down at his little brother and grinned.

“Put on your disguise,” he whispered. Heels clacked up the stairs outside, and Ardyn’s heart drummed rapid-fire in his chest, copper blooming on his tongue. He covered his face with both hands and pulled them away, schooling his face into a dull, vague expression. Somnus smiled and struggled to do the same, and Ardyn scrambled to hide the mystery book they’d been reading. He dragged out a book of sheet music instead, and shoved a violin in Somnus’ hands. Somnus dutifully tucked it under his chin as Ardyn leaned over to rearrange his fingers on the neck.

“You can’t hold it too tight,” he said, as their mother opened the bedroom door. She was in her evening wear, pearls pinned up in the bump of hair at the back of her head, and she smiled faintly as Ardyn slid off the bed and stood to attention.

“Good evening, Mother,” he said. He clasped his hands behind his back and made a gesture with two fingers, and Somnus fell off the bed as well. Their mother’s smile faltered just a fraction, and Ardyn took a hurried step forward. “Somnus wanted to practice before lessons tomorrow,” he said. “He doesn’t want to disappoint his tutor on the first day.”

“Very thoughtful of you,” their mother said. She raked her cold gaze over Somnus, who balked, and Ardyn threw himself forward, walking in the brisk, no-nonsense manner his father preferred. 

“What brings you in from the office so early?” Ardyn asked. She tore her gaze from Somnus, who slumped just a little in relief. “Did something happen?”

“No, of course not, sweetness.” Ardyn bit down a scowl as she tucked an errant curl behind his ear. “We just thought it would be time to have you both join us for dinner tonight.”

Ardyn glanced back at Somnus, whose expression was frozen in a rictus of terror. Dinners with Family were nerve-wracking at best, full of etiquette no one had taught them, smiling adults who never said what they meant, puzzles wrapped in riddles tucked under innocuous compliments. Ardyn pushed the fear down, down, until it was just a hard lump in his belly, and gave his mother a polite smile.

“We’d love to,” he said. “Thank you, Mother.”

Somnus was already crying by the time the door shut after her. Ardyn ran to him, blotted his tears, and held him by the shoulders.

“Somnus,” he said.

“I’m gonna ruin it,” Somnus whispered.

“Listen to me.” Ardyn tried to ignore the thump of his heart rippling through his skin and forced himself to smile. “You know when the Case brothers got caught in Skullbone Cave with the cultists and had to pretend to worship the rat god?” Somnus nodded. “That’s what we’ve gotta do. We’re going to go down there, and no one’ll know that we’re secretly normal kids. They’ll think we’re cultists, like them. We’ll eat the candied roaches and pickled rat guts and pigeon tartare and—“

Somnus chuckled, a little wetly.

“And we’ll talk about how good it tastes and how nice Lady Cultist Fleabane’s hair looks tonight, and when the time’s right, we’ll sneak back upstairs and compare notes.”

“Right,” Somnus said.

“You have to be brave,” Ardyn told him. “But don’t forget, okay? We’re brothers. Like the Cases. We help each other when we’re in trouble, every time.”

“I promise,” Somnus whispered.

Ardyn helped him dress. He brushed back his hair—much softer and more manageable than Ardyn’s, which had to go in a tight bun or risk tumbling about in tangled curls—and walked him down the stairs, holding his hand until they got to the bottom step.

“Okay,” he whispered, as their father strode up to inspect them. “Game faces.”

The night was about as miserable as Ardyn expected it to be, but Somnus, at least, seemed to be having fun. He fell into the game wholly and utterly, nodding at his dinner companions like they were revealing their darkest secrets, while Ardyn was seated next to a girl about his age with blonde hair and a nervous smile.

He stayed on the edge of his seat throughout the meal, making sure to give Somnus signals every time he nearly ruined things. _Don’t eat fast. Quiet down. Don’t laugh._ In his turn, Ardyn smiled and charmed his way into his dining companion’s good graces, learning that she was a Fleuret—An old Imperial family, with ties to Tenebrae’s royal line—fourteen years old, and possibly too nice to be embroiled in Izunia family politics.

“You should come to Tenebrae some time,” she said, when the dessert course was served. “We have natural springs there, and this enormous ruin—“

Ardyn flinched as the sound of breaking glass rang out in the dining hall. He turned, horrified, to find Somnus covered in the contents of someone else’s wine glass, tears swimming in his eyes. Their father was already passing through the guests, cajoling and smiling in turn, and Ardyn clenched his hand on his napkin as Somnus was grabbed firmly by the arm.

“My apologies,” their father said. “Somnus here just needs a little quiet time.”

Somnus shot Ardyn a look. Quiet time meant the thinking room, which was really just a dark closet with nothing but the line of the door to distract them from the weight of their failure. Ardyn hated the thinking room, but it terrified Somnus, who was so afraid of the dark that he always had to have his clothes laundered after. Ardyn took a sharp breath and turned to the girl beside him.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, and upended his plate of tiramisu onto her pristine white dress.

He staggered into the thinking room fifteen minutes later, bumping his shoulder against the wall. Somnus was curled up in the corner, just a lump of shadow in the dark, and Ardyn gathered him into his arms despite the ringing, searing pain on his backside.

“You were crying,” Somnus whispered. 

“Had to put on a show,” Ardyn whispered back. Somnus sank into his hold, and Ardyn tried to ignore the bruises of the leather strap on his skin as he eased down to the carpet. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” Somnus said.

“Sure I did,” Ardyn said. He ruffled Somnus’ hair, and Somnus sighed, wrapping his arms around Ardyn’s back. “You’re my brother. What else am I supposed to do?”

—

At fifteen, Ardyn started sneaking out of the manor. Somnus covered for him when he had to, but Ardyn had learned the way to slip in and out while his parents were distracted, and ran off to the boardwalk where surfers ate food wrapped in foil and talked about concerts and dates and _prom._ He made out with a boy with long black hair and dark skin who called him _cute_ and taught him how to climb walls, and got drunk on the roof of an abandoned hotel, surrounded by the kind of people his parents wouldn’t even look at on the street.

Somnus, meanwhile, took art lessons from their private tutor.

At sixteen, Ardyn made his first design, and the board members of Izunia Holdings applauded politely while Ardyn grit his teeth, hating them.

Somnus took accounting classes after school.

Ardyn snuck into the gay bar under the overpass and ended up crying in a bathroom stall, furious and elated and terrified. A drag queen found him there, and Ardyn looked up into gorgeous dark eyelashes and a brilliant golden cloak and finally, finally, knew exactly what he wanted.

But old habits died hard, and Ardyn was only nineteen when he found himself calling a man he’d met at a bar, climbing into his truck, gasping in his bed. Then he was alone, and the fuzzy glow of pleasure gave way to the dark, and he yanked at the cuffs at his wrists as the sound of an engine turning over rumbled from the driveway.

It was thirty minutes before he could manage to get his phone in hand and make a call.

It was another hour before Somnus found him.

“No,” Somnus said. He stood in the doorway, scowling down at Ardyn, whose wrists were rubbed raw against the unforgiving metal of the cuffs. “You’ve gone too far this time.”

“Just get the key, Somnus,” Ardyn said. 

“I can’t believe you.”

“Somn—“

“Do you know how hard I’ve worked to get anywhere in this family?” Somnus asked. He was only sixteen, but he looked so much like their father, face twisted in cold rage. “No one cares what the youngest does. No one is tripping over themselves to praise me for what scraps I’ve cobbled together at the last minute, let alone what I’ve sacrificed and bled and worked for—but you—“

“Somnus, we can talk about this when I’m—“

“You go to clubs,” Somnus said. “Bars. Back alleys. You turn aside a perfectly good engagement to a woman from a noble background. You throw our family’s gratitude back in their faces. You’ve become a... a sex addict—“

“It’s not—“

“I’m not covering for you anymore,” Somnus said. “If you want to throw it all away for a cheap thrill, leave me out of it.”

Ardyn struggled to speak around the hard, heavy lump in his throat. “Somnus.”

“Don’t say my name like you care,” Somnus spat, and turned on his heel. “You’ve made your bed,” he added, disappearing down the hall. “I hope it pleases you.”

——

“Fuck!”

Ardyn smiled faintly as Noct, habitual sloucher and the only man Ardyn knew with the gall to fall asleep in the scrap cloth pile at three in the afternoon, straightened his posture for the eleventh time. Ardyn released his firm grip on the back of Noct’s head and got back to pinning the sides of his outfit for the wedding. 

Ravus, lounging aggressively on the chaise in sweatpants and a sheer black shirt, smiled wolflike at Noct.

“Bored?” he asked. 

“Fuck you.”

Ravus stretched—Ardyn leaned around Noct to watch his long limbs seize and flex, the hem of his shirt riding up his stomach. “A shame you have to waste your afternoon being manhandled. Perhaps I’ll play video games and eat undercooked meat like an uncultured street urchin.”

“How do you even—“ Noct turned at Ardyn’s touch, letting him work on the delicate silver tatting at his chest. “Who talks like that? No one talks like that.”

Ravus tilted his head to a patch of sun. Noct flinched as a pin slid close to his back, and Ravus grinned. “Can’t take a little pinch, Noct? See, this is why you lot nearly lost the war...”

“We can reenact it, if you want.”

Ardyn bit back a sigh. “I’m calling a ceasefire. Ravus. Retract your claws, there’s a dear. Noct, if you don’t sit up straight, I’m adding a corrective brace to this suit. In fact...” He strode around Noct, running a line up his back. Yes. He could manage it, if he lengthened the cloak fitted into Noct’s shoulders. Just enough to mold him, not enough to put pressure on his lower back...

An hour later, Ardyn emerged from his plans to find Ravus dozing in the sun, smiling smugly, while Noct stood before him, nearly done.

“Perfect,” Ardyn said. He kissed Noct, who didn’t dare move his arms for fear of pulling the fabric, and admired the flushed pink of his cheeks. “I’d say you very nearly liked that.”

“Hedonist,” Ravus mumbled, eyes slitting open.

“Of course he is.” Ardyn started the slow, careful process of easing Noct out of the pinned suit. “Just the way you like it.”

That night, they all went to a play Ravus’ sister was starring in at the outdoor amphitheater. Ardyn crossed his legs over two rows of seats while Noct and Ravus engaged in the long con foreplay they’d developed over the months, arguing over spiced bread and hushing each other every time Luna so much as blinked. It was like sitting next to a pair of hissing geese, but the air was cool, ducks were drifting along the river behind the theater, and as Ardyn luxuriated in the dulcet sounds of a fictional oracle dying tragically on stage, he could almost forget that his little brother was climbing into a bed of his own making.


	8. Chapter 8

“Oh,” Noct said, standing in the entrance of the oldest cathedral in Lucis while celebrities passed by him like a school of well-dressed fish. “Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes,” Ardyn said. He flicked at his sleeves—almost plain for his standards, black with foggy swathes of violet like a darkening sunset—and ran an appreciative hand down the boning of Noct’s corset. Noct sucked in a breath, and Ravus groaned in horror.

Above them, a nearly naked, black-haired Ardyn Izunia smiled benevolently down on the cathedral floor.

“Allow me to introduce great-great-great...etcetera grandfather Ileas,” Ardyn said, as Ravus hastily adjusted the white cloth sliding over his thighs. “Artist. Poet. Philanthropist. He was also a king for a time, before the peasants cut off his head. And this,” he gestured towards a statue draped in white— “is King Regis, from the sadly defunct fourth branch of the family. Ruled for fifteen days. King King, I call him.”

“My dad was a Regis,” Noct said, a spark of interest pushing past the thought of Ardyn’s ancestor staring a hole in the top of his head. “And my great-grandfather, I think. It was a thing.”

“They must have been royalists,” Ardyn said. “Shame.” He spun round suddenly, hands flying to Noct’s collar. “Noct. Darling.”

Ravus and Noct exchanged a wary look.

“Weddings are incredibly important affairs in my family,” Ardyn said. Other guests passed them, staring openly at Ardyn’s hair, his black suit, Ravus’ scandalously white puzzle of lace and silk. “Which means you are by all means encouraged to be as sullen and antisocial as your heart desires.”

Ravus made a sharp gesture behind Ardyn’s back, indicating otherwise. “He did invite you,” Noct said, for what felt like the hundredth time.

“Indirectly,” Ardyn said, as usual. “God forbid he put my name on the guest list.” He adjusted the silver bands around Noct’s wrists, which fitted just under his cuffs, and stepped back. “Excellent. Let’s go see if Auntie Eurania still slips wine into her tea flask, shall we?”

He took Noct’s arm on one side, his fingers just brushing the elaborate silver skulls shimmering on his sleeve, and Ravus’ on the other, and Noct had the sudden realization that, in his own way, Ardyn was making himself into something of a king as well, flanked by consorts and brimming with cheerful malice.

Technically, Noct was supposed to only have a plus one, not two, but Ravus has charmed (or bullied) his way into an invitation of his own, and like hell they were going to leave Ardyn unsupervised in a nest of Izunias. Noct tightened his hold on Ardyn’s arm as they entered a grand hall, where guests were already seated on pews framed by nearly three dozen marble Izunias. The statues cast long shadows on the walls, where stained glass windows depicted the rise and fall of the Astral gods, and white sylleblossoms burst from vases and the hands of two young women standing at one end of the aisle.

The younger one, a girl with a shock of blonde hair and Ardyn’s golden eyes, smiled blandly at them.

“Friends sit in the back,” she said. “Family up front.”

“I suppose I should prepare for an identity crisis,” Ardyn said. Ravus closed his eyes for a breath, and the girl frowned. “Not to worry. Are you...” He squinted at her. “One of Charlie’s?”

“You know Daddy?” the girl asked. 

“I kicked him in a pond once,” Ardyn said, sweeping them all past her to sit squarely in the middle of the Izunia section. No one in the family pews stood up to stare, but Noct caught more than one sideways glance, and a woman in the first aisle wearing a pea green hat was sitting stiffly while other elderly women whispered in her ear. Ardyn smiled and kicked his feet up on the kneeler.

“I should have never allowed you to dress me,” Ravus hissed, adjusting his outfit again. It wasn’t exactly a gown—there was enough fabric for a skirt half a mile long, probably, but it was all in strips that sighed out of silver tatted lace that cling to Ravus’ thighs, belly, and chest. He looked more like a concubine than a consort, even with his severe white jacket, and Ardyn smiled at him like he was a work of art he’d just stolen off the easel.

Noct, meanwhile, was in a black half corset that reached the top of his collar, forcing him to sit up straight in his black and silver suit. The suit had strips of black cloth hanging from the waist, just like Ravus, but at least _his_ pants weren’t lace. Not, he thought, as Ardyn touched Ravus’ back and Ravus’ cheeks flushed, that either of them minded too much.

“Every Izunia wedding takes place here,” Ardyn drawled, and a few guests on either side glanced his way. “Though I’m certain this is the first time they’ve risked such an expense in quite a few years—“

“Excuse me.”

The little girl was back, looking pained. She leaned as close as she could from the end of the aisle, wringing her small hands, and Ardyn’s expression darkened, taking an edge Noct hadn’t seen before.

“Grandma Izunia says you need to leave,” the girl whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“She’s using you as a messenger?” Ardyn asked. His voice rose—Noct placed a hand on his thigh and shook his head, and for a second, Ardyn turned a fierce glare his way. Then he drew back, like there were interlocking pieces of a wall clicking into place behind his eyes, and Noct turned to the girl.

“We won’t get you in trouble,” he whispered. “But Somnus invited us.”

“But...” the girl took an unsteady gulp of air.

“It’s ok. What’s your name? I’m Noct.” Noct held out a hand, and the girl took it. 

“Allie.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Allie,” Noct whispered. “You’re doing a good job. I bet it’s pretty weird having to stand by yourself up there, huh?” She nodded. “Do you want me to talk to Mrs. Izunia for you, so you don’t have to run back and forth? I don’t mind.”

“Okay,” she whispered back. Noct could feel the disapproval radiating from his left, but he ignored it to give her an encouraging smile.

Then she was gone, lifted up with a squeak that turned into a hysterical giggle as a man in a grey and black suit hefted her in his arms. Somnus Izunia tossed her an inch into the air, and her squeal of delight echoed in the hall, making generations of Izunias risk death by mortification to crane their heads around to stare.

Noct knew he was probably staring, too, but he couldn’t help himself. Somnus was grinning; not with the kind of self-satisfied smugness Noct recognized, but open, honest... It made him look like Ardyn, for a moment. Allie kicked her feet as he swung her over his shoulder, and he nodded to his scandalized guests.

“Excuse me,” he said. His voice rang out in the sudden silence. “We’re in need of extra flower girls.”

“Uncle Somnus!” 

“Please carry on,” Somnus said. His gaze slid over Ardyn and hesitated for a moment on the woman in the pea green hat, whose mouth was tight with disdain. “Thank you.”

He marched off, carrying Allie with him, while the other girl kept close at his heels.

“They had a system,” Ravus whispered. “You saw that? The other girl ran off as soon as we were approached, and came back with—“

“Yes, he’s very clever,” Ardyn whispered back, in a short, sharp tone. Noct rubbed his thigh, but Ardyn didn’t acknowledge him, his entire focus bent on the woman in the first aisle.

The ceremony itself was surprisingly brief. Somnus came out holding hands with the flower girls, who kept giggling and grinning at him, and Gilgamesh followed after by himself, looking slightly awkward in his black and gold suit. He exchanged a brief smile with Somnus, and Noct caught Gil’s hands clenching behind his back, just for a moment. Somnus’ smile was detached and calculated, meant for the cameras, but there was something in the way Gil watched him as he moved, the way he was drawn to the shape of his mouth, the movement of his hands. Noct thought of the times he used to watch Somnus himself, trying to quietly piece him together as he worked in his office, brow furrowed, and leaned over to glance at Ravus.

Ravus met his gaze and nodded, but Noct was suddenly pulled back by Ardyn’s hand on his neck, running down the length of his corset.

“I need you here,” Ardyn whispered. Noct blinked.

“What?”

He said nothing. Noct settled, aware of the heat of Ardyn’s hand, and watched as the curtain behind Somnus and Gil was drawn back to reveal—

Ravus coughed down what sounded suspiciously like a laugh as an alcove appeared behind the two men, boasting a life-size painting of the naked, scowling founder king of Lucis. Ardyn smiled slowly, and Noct watched in mounting horror as the priest picked up an urn in the alcove and held it over his head.

“That isn’t,” he said.

“Oh, yes,” Ardyn whispered. Beside him, Ravus was trembling with suppressed laughter. “Say hello to the founder king himself.”

Noct covered his mouth, and an entire row of irate Izunias twisted in their seats to glare. This only made Ravus laugh harder, and Noct covered his face as Somnus, ducking so the urn could be passed over his head, turned his unreadable gaze their way.

They barely made it out of the ceremony hall. Thankfully, their table in the glittering reception ballroom was crammed as far back as politeness would allow, and Noct and Ravus practically dragged Ardyn to his seat, where champagne was already waiting in high fluted glasses.

“We should’ve skipped,” Noct whispered, draining his glass. “I feel like I’m in some kind of alien hive.”

“Noct,” Ardyn said. He touched Noct’s chin, turning his face away from the milling guests. “You absolutely are.”

“Fuck.” Noct swiped a sip of Ardyn’s drink, got up, and adjusted his stiff collar. “I need air.”

“Would you like me to—“

“No,” Noct said, as Ardyn made to rise. “No, I’m good.”

It was unlikely, Noct thought, as he sidled his way towards what he hoped were the bathrooms, that his usual party tactic of befriending the local cat would work in this particular situation. He leaned against the wall, breathed hard into his hands, and groaned softly.

“Noct.”

He lowered his hands. Ravus stalked towards him, over six feet of muscle at the head of a cloud of silk, the pins holding his hair up shining in the light. Noct grunted as Ravus grabbed him by the collar, pulling him further into the hall.

“This was a terrible decision,” Ravus said. “We should leave before Ardyn incites a riot.”

“Yeah,” Noct said. “Yeah, I think this is too big for us.”

Ravus sighed—a loud, gusty sigh, the sort he tended to make when Noct was right but he didn’t want to admit to it—and crowded Noct against the wall. He lowered his head next to Noct’s, their cheeks brushing, and it struck Noct suddenly that in this moment, with his hand on Noct and his breath held sharp between his teeth, he was _asking_ for something, too proud to say the words aloud.

Noct wrapped an arm around Ravus’ back, and Ravus sighed again, softer this time. He melted at Noct’s touch, little by little, until he was reaching for Noct himself, long fingers sliding up his neck, scraping his jaw, digging into his hair.

Noct pressed his lips to Ravus’ neck, and Ravus tugged at his roots and shoved a thigh between his legs.

“We’re never having a wedding,” Ravus panted, grinding his thigh against Noct. He tugged Noct’s head back so he could kiss him properly, biting his lips plush.

“Fuck no,” Noct agreed, when he could come up for air. He brushed aside the cloth covering Ravus’ thighs and cupped his balls through his flimsy underwear. Ravus was already hard—Noct wondered if Ardyn had been teasing him under the table—and he whined at the touch. 

“God’s sakes,” a voice called behind them. Noct was pressed against the wall, too trapped to pull away, but Ravus just braced his arm by Noct’s head and twisted to get a good look at their unwelcome visitor.

Somnus stood a few feet from the men’s bathroom, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Oh,” Noct said, eloquently. “Hey.”

“Does...” Somnus took a long breath. “Does Ardyn know you’re—Noctis. I need to speak to you. Privately.”

Ravus gave Noct a look, and Noct had to hold back a smile—A few months ago, Ravus would’ve balked at the thought of sticking around to back Noct up. All the same, Noct knew Somnus better. He wouldn’t talk about anything personal where there might be an audience, and Ravus counted as an audience.

“It’s fine,” Noct whispered.

“I’ll just freshen up,” Ravus said, and pushed away from Noct. He passed around Somnus, who tried not to stare, and disappeared into the bathroom with a whisper of silk. Somnus sighed, and his weary look hardened, going stony and dark. 

Shit.

For the second time that night, Noct found himself pushed against the wall. Somnus kept his hand firmly in the middle of Noct’s chest, and Noct had to push back the small, panicky instinct to throw him off. He ground his teeth and tried not to think about the flagging erection still tenting his tight pants.

“I thought you were Ardyn’s,” Somnus said, in a low, almost rumbling voice. Noct raised his brows.

“Ok, I’ll need you to translate that into peasant,” Noct said. Somnus’ eyes widened. Noct had never spoken back like that when they were together—maybe that was part of the problem. “I’m not anyone’s, but Ardyn and I are dating, yeah.”

“And this?” Somnus glanced back at the bathroom. “I don’t presume to... perhaps you don’t know. My brother is.” He closed his eyes for a second. “A romantic.”

Noct thought of the way Ardyn had flogged Ravus into coming on the sheets just last week before fucking Noct in front of him, all in some convoluted power play over who got to use the downstairs gym that day, and struggled not to grin.

“He’s easily wounded,” Somnus said. “He isn’t like... he can’t turn himself off, the way others can.”

“The way you do,” Noct said.

Somnus said nothing.

“Shit.” Noct pushed Somnus’ hand aside, but Somnus didn’t move. “I’m sorry, but we’re not like that, Somnus. We don’t have to be. All three of us,” he added, meaningly, and Somnus finally drew back.

“Ah.”

“Well, isn’t this a delight,” Ardyn’s voice rang out from down the hall, low and amused and strangely dangerous, a hint of wildness Noct hadn’t heard before. Noct looked around Somnus’ shoulder to find Ardyn striding towards them like a thundercloud billowing on the horizon, shoes clacking on the tile. “My brother, trying to reclaim one of his former conquests.”

“This is the second time I’ve been called a possession in the past ten minutes,” Noct snapped. “And no. Dumbass.”

Somnus’ gaze flicked from Ardyn to Noct, and Ardyn smiled. “Stand down, peasant.”

“You’ll be the first to go when the revolution comes.”

Ardyn chuckled softly, patted Noct’s cheek with a fondness that almost eclipsed the fury bubbling in his eyes, and grabbed two fistfuls of Somnus’ wedding suit.

“Ravus!”

Noct jumped onto Ardyn’s shoulders, but Somnus was already staggering into the opposite wall by the time Ravus slid out of the bathroom. Ravus took in the scene—Noct hanging off Ardyn’s neck, Ardyn looming over his red-faced brother—and rolled his eyes.

“Ardyn,” he said. “There you are. I hear they’re about to toast—how would you like to lift a bottle and bring the gremlin home?”

“Oh, fuck all of you,” Noct said.

Somnus stared at Ardyn as the rage slowly ebbed. Ravus stepped into his orbit, ignoring Noct still dangling off his back, and Ardyn reached up to stroke his cheek.

For a moment, all Noct could read in Somnus’ expression was anguish.

Ardyn regarded his brother for a long, breathless second.

Then Ardyn was swinging around, making Noct stumble to the tile, dragging them all off to the sea of tables where the promise of stolen champagne awaited them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next section is mostly from Ardyn’s perspective, so I felt it would work better to split the wedding into two parts.


	9. Chapter 9

At least, Ardyn thought, as his brother walked unsteadily towards the long table where the family sat in all their glory, the champagne was excellent.

Of course, no one was meant to drink yet. It was supposed to be bad luck, apparently, but Ardyn had already drained his glass before he sat down, flanked by his lovers as though he were a wild bull preparing to kick down the door to a wine cellar. He took a sip of Ravus’ glass as his mother, looking like a spring leaf in her best green dress, rose to her feet.

“My sweet boy,” she said. Ardyn caught the frozen smile on Somnus’ face at that. He’d never been her sweet anything, not when he was perpetually the youngest, the regrettable second chance in the face of Ardyn’s spectacular failure. “I knew from the moment you were born that you were special.”

“Gods,” Ardyn whispered. Noct gave him a curious look. Back in the day, when Somnus still followed Ardyn like a lost duckling, they used to get through wedding speeches by trying to steal teaspoons and napkin holders while the adults weren’t paying attention. Ardyn had smuggled an entire centerpiece in his suit once, and Somnus had spent the entire reception trying not to laugh.

Ardyn watched Somnus’ fingers flex over the untouched silverware at his side while their mother rambled on about some boy neither of them had met. A perfect boy, an upstanding boy, obedient to a fault and a pillar of the community.

There was a smattering of applause as Mrs. Izunia sat down. 

Gilgamesh didn’t have much family to speak of, poor soul. Soon enough, all the important toasts had been made, and the guests looked expectantly at each other, too awkward and uncertain to make the first move.

Ardyn stood.

Noct hissed something at his side, and Ravus dropped his head in his hand, but Ardyn just raised Ravus’ glass towards his brother. A thousand scathing words rose to his tongue, speeches long rehearsed in dark hours when even a warm touch and a welcoming bed awaited him, bitterness blooming in his gut.

Somnus met his gaze, and the words died in Ardyn’s throat.

“Somnus.” His voice was strange to his own ears, bereft of his usual disaffected drawl. His brother’s name came out urgent, raw, a plea in a tongue Ardyn couldn’t quite interpret.

Somnus rose from his chair, hands pressed to the table.

“Oh, I can’t keep it in,” their mother cried, pushing her chair back. She smiled at the guests, raising her glass a second time. “I have to say just a few more words to my darling boy. Any mother—“

Ardyn knocked back his glass.

“Any mother would be overwhelmed to see her only son—“

Their mother walked along the table, but Somnus kept his gaze fixed on Ardyn as he set down Ravus’ glass, turned on his heel, and strode off towards the wide double doors. There was a murmur at his back, his mother’s voice rising in alarm, the sound of chairs scraping and glasses clinking, but Ardyn was gone, disappearing through a side door and into an unused stairwell.

He sat down, cursed softly, and dug in his pockets for the cigarette he was holding for Ravus. It took him a moment to light it, and he grimaced as he inhaled, blowing out a stream of smoke into five hundred year old wallpaper.

The door opened slowly, iron hinges creaking like a team of terrified mice. Ardyn stiffened, half expecting to find his mother standing there, and looked up into the eyes of his brother. Somnus stood there like a man struck through the heart, unsure whether to fall or stagger forwards under the blow, and his eyes were overbright.

“You’ll set off the fire alarm,” Somnus said.

“God willing,” Ardyn drawled. He hesitated, examining Somnus’ stricken face, and held out the cigarette. 

Somnus leaned forward and took it.

He sat heavily next to Ardyn, ruining his fine suit with dust, and coughed out smoke. Ardyn reached over to pat his back out of habit, and Somnus looked at him sidelong, the cigarette trembling in his fingers.

“Been a while since our last wedding,” Ardyn said. “Hasn’t it, Som?”

Somnus laughed hollowly and passed the cigarette to Ardyn. It was crushed beyond use, and Ardyn discreetly put it out on the carved railing, leaving a permanent mark. Ravus would forgive him eventually. 

“Don’t know what I expected when I invited you,” Somnus muttered.

“You never could get through these things without me,” Ardyn said.

Somnus laughed again. “Shame we can’t simply hide in a closet somewhere and compare stolen forks. The family would object, now.”

“That’s where being a pariah comes to one’s advantage,” Ardyn said. “I can steal the founder king’s ashes themselves and no one would bat an eye.”

Somnus snorted. They sat there a moment, knees touching, smoke drifting in the air above them, while the sound of the reception hall rose and fell beyond the door. Then Somnus sat up, just a little, and something of a light sparked in his eyes.

“You know, Ardyn,” he said. “I do believe you’re right.”

It was laughably easy. With the wedding party in the reception hall and security pacing the outskirts for the sake of aesthetics, all Somnus and Ardyn had to do was lift the urn from its table and keep away from the doors. Somnus held the urn to his side as Ardyn took pins out of his brother’s hair and unlocked the door to the roof. 

“Oh, hell,” Somnus said, as they emerged into the brisk open air. He surveyed the roof with the same open smile he’d worn as a child, before Ardyn had failed to be the barrier he needed against the worst of the Izunia family expectations. He set the urn down on a plastic patio table—clearly used for employee smoke breaks, if the ashtray was anything to go by—and opened a rusted folding chair. Ardyn found another wedged against an AC unit and dragged it over. Above them, the sky was filled with stars, light spilling across the dark expanse of the universe in all directions.

“Drink it in, old boy,” Somnus said to the urn. He slumped into his seat and pulled out a flask from his jacket. “Get a glimpse of freedom for the first time in your life.”

“Poor soul,” Ardyn said. He held out his hand, and Somnus took a swig from the flask before passing it over. It was brandy—rather strong brandy at that—and Ardyn relished the burn as he knocked it back. 

“I was a fool, you know,” Somnus said, after a moment. “When I found you, when we were young. I realized it later—He could have—you were asking for help, and I could have left you to a man who—“

“He didn’t hurt me, if that’s what you’re implying,” Ardyn said. Somnus took the flask.

“I’m not a blushing flower, Ardyn. I know that one’s... dominant doesn’t leave you on the bed for hours when he means well.”

“On second thought, give me the flask back,” Ardyn said. “I want to erase the memory of you saying the word _dominant_ from my mind.”

“Excuse you.” Somnus gamely handed it over anyways. “Who’s the man who is currently in a, a threesome with my ex-lover?”

“It isn’t a threesome, it’s a—look, I gave you the birds and the bees talk once, Som. Once. I don’t have it in me for a repeat experience.” Somnus rolled his eyes. 

They sat there in silence for a minute, letting the sounds of the city wash over them.

“Do you love them?” Somnus asked. “Those men, down there?”

Ardyn twisted to look at his little brother, staring down at his shined shoes on the roof of a cathedral on his wedding night. “Yes.”

Somnus closed his eyes.

“I have...” Ardyn sent a silent apology to Noct, sitting downstairs in the jaws of a pleasant Izunia family dinner. “I have three rooms in my apartment, you know. Noctis can move his things in with me, and lord knows Ravus can make do with sharing a kitchen.”

Somnus turned in his seat, and Ardyn fell silent as he searched his face, eyes narrowed.

“Or we can go,” Ardyn said, pushing past the painful constriction in his chest as he forced the words out. “The two of us. I have the money. We can head to Altissia—“

Somnus set the flask down next to the urn. “You said you love them.”

“I do,” Ardyn said. “But we can leave tonight, if you need to.”

Somnus turned aside, staring down at his hands. A wind rushed by, stirring their hair, sending bits of paper skipping along the roof, rocking the urn on the cheap plastic table between them.

“Gil offered me his home this morning,” Somnus said at last. “I said I’d think about it.”

“He’s a good man?”

Somnus shrugged. “Better than I deserve, probably.” He took another sip from the flask. “I don’t like being alone, Ardyn. It’s been—It’s been so long since I’ve—“ he pressed his lips to the flask and took a long draught.

“I’m sorry,” Ardyn said. “I never should have left you here.”

“Well, at least I have company now,” Somnus said, patting the urn with one hand. “At least we’re neither of us in his position. Imagine, being beholden to the Izunia family for thousands of years, unable to escape. It’s fucking depressing. I’m sure the poor man hasn’t had this much fresh air in years.”

“No,” Ardyn said, in a faint voice. “I expect not.”

Somnus and Ardyn locked gazes at the same time, just as another breeze rattled the lid of the urn. 

“It’d be a public service,” Ardyn said.

“It’s probably a biohazard,” said Somnus.

They stared at the urn.

Somnus was the first to lunge for it. 

They carried the ashes of the founder king of Lucis to the edge of the cathedral roof, where Somnus lifted it in both hands like a slightly inebriated priest.

“Ardyn? Words?”

“Lucky bastard,” Ardyn said. Somnus laughed and wobbled on his feet. Ardyn grabbed him by the collar just as Somnus hauled back and flung the urn, ashes and all, into the sky.

“Somnus!” Ardyn cried, as the urn arced through the air. “The ashes! You throw the _ashes!”_

“Fucking hell!” Somnus shouted, as the urn smashed through the window of a parked car, scattering pottery all over the parking lot below. A chorus of car alarms rose through the night air, and Somnus and Ardyn stood there a moment, staring at the flashing headlights and wailing alarms, before they turned and scrambled for the door to the stairs.

———

Ardyn found Ravus and Noctis in the bathroom, talking in low voices while Noct readjusted Ravus’ outfit. He watched them for a minute, admiring the way Noct’s fingers slid along the lace band hugging Ravus’ hips, and cleared his throat.

“We may need to leave,” he said, as Noct turned, face flushing a delightful pink, with his fingers still hooked in the lace. “As soon as possible, if you please.”

“Tell me you didn’t kill your brother,” Ravus said.

“I’m wounded by the suggestion,” Ardyn said, striding over to take them both by the collars. He tugged them forward an inch, pleaded to find Ravus’ eyes go unfocused and Noct’s blush deepen, and tilted his head towards the door. “No, he’s been invited to dinner in two weeks, if you can imagine. This is a different matter entirely.”

“Hold on,” Noct said. Ravus took him by the belt, dragging him along after Ardyn. “You said dinner. Somnus. You and Somnus. Having dinner.”

“Yes,” Ardyn said. “I’ll explain in due time. But for now, I need to be home half an hour ago precisely, preferably with witnesses.”

“Oh, hell,” Ravus whispered. “He did kill someone.”

“Liberate, Ravus,” Ardyn said, as he led them both through a hall of panicked, wild-eyed guests and into the cacophonous din of the parking lot. “The word you’re looking for is liberate.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that we’ve had some drama, what do you think: Noct subbing for Ravus and Ardyn at the same time with elaborate costumes, Ravus being needy AF after a show, or Ravus and Noct ganging up on Ardyn?


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The smut chapter! Roleplay and flogging and edging for the most part. Some slapping. All with consent. ;)

Apparently, there was nothing quite like an Izunia wedding to make both Noct and Ravus distressingly industrious. Noct drove them home, hands clenched in the wheel while Ravus pointed out every road he should have taken and shortcut any decent driver would have known. Ravus plied Ardyn with bottled water from the glove compartment and pointedly didn’t ask about the crowd of guests standing at the other side of the parking lot as they left. The two of them actually agreed on a radio station—an obscure show on classical music tied into pagan rituals of the early ‘200’s—one of Ardyn’s personal favorites, and Noct only rolled his eyes once.

They reached the apartment just as Ardyn was sober enough to consider climbing into the front seat to drive the rest of the way himself, but Noct, seeming to read the look in his eyes, quickly cut the engine and scrambled out. Noct slid a proprietary hand along Ardyn’s back as they rode the elevator up, and as soon as the front door closed behind him, sank to his knees at Ardyn’s feet. 

“Why Noct,” Ardyn said. “If I knew bearing through four hours of stifling nonsense would bring you to your knees, I would have considered—“ he paused, brows raised, as Ravus started to undo his jacket buttons from behind. At his feet, Noct bowed his head to slip off Ardyn’s shoes, one at a time, while Ravus hung Ardyn’s jacket on the wall.

“That was more than we should have asked of you,” Ravus said, as Noct rose to help him unbutton his vest. Noct left it hanging open, exposing Ardyn’s thin, half unbuttoned undershirt and the hint of chest hair that always made Noct’s eyes go dark with want. 

“It was necessary, in the end,” Ardyn said. Ravus and Noct exchanged a look, but before Ardyn could protest this clear insubordination in the ranks, Noct leaned in for a kiss on the side of his jaw.

“Come on,” Noct said. “I don’t know about you, but I need to scrub tonight off my skin.”

“Or soul,” Ravus drawled.

“Yeah.” Noct’s eyes narrowed in a smile. “Or that.”

Ravus untied Noct’s corset in the bathroom, Noct’s hands pressed to the wall, legs knocked apart by Ravus’ knee. Ardyn watched comfortably from the bench next to the shower, smiling fondly as Ravus clenched a fist in Noct’s hair in a silent warning to behave, and as Noct deftly untied the lace straps of Ravus’ costume in turn.

Then they came to him, both of them, and Ardyn’s laugh echoed off the tile.

He would have protested sharing the shower, however spacious, with both of his lovers, but it seemed Noct and Ravus had the evening planned. Noct found himself on his knees again, gripping Ravus’ ass in both hands as Ravus kissed up Ardyn’s neck. Ardyn didn’t mind letting his hands roam Ravus’ body, feeling the way he trembled at Noct’s slow but persistent efforts, and smiled when Ravus jerked suddenly, eyes blown wide. Between Ardyn’s hand and Noct’s tongue, Ravus came in Ardyn’s arms, water trickling down his long silver hair and sliding down the curve of his spine. Ardyn helped him dry off while Noct lurched for the bathroom cabinet, and discreetly led a languid and almost smiling Ravus to bed.

“Noct will pine,” Ardyn said, as Ravus climbed onto the sheets. He pressed him down just the way Ravus liked it, a gentle hand on his throat, and Ravus, never one to admit to a sense of tenderness in bed, ran his hand through Ardyn’s damp hair.

“I’m sure,” Ravus drawled, and Ardyn’s breath hitched in unabashed delight as Ravus flipped him over, sending Ardyn sprawling on his back. Ravus was powerfully strong, most of it held at bay even when Ardyn was fucking him into mindlessness, and the force of his steadying hand on Ardyn’s shoulder made Ardyn bare his teeth in a grin. 

“He has his uses, though,” Ravus said. He snapped his fingers, and Ardyn laughed at Noct’s muttered curse in the bathroom.

“Not your fucking lackey, Ravus! Get your own condoms! Fucking gods, people tonight and their fucking sense of entitlement—“

“That’s a thought,” Ardyn said, as Ravus inelegantly crawled to the bedside table. “Noct under the both of us. Serving you. I believe you might even enjoy it.”

“It would make a nice change of pace,” Ravus said, and Noct emerged from the bathroom with both hands up, making a rude gesture that had Ravus rolling his eyes.

“Yes,” Ravus said, shuffling back to unroll the condom over Ardyn’s cock. “It does have a certain appeal.”

“Noct making us coffee in the morning,” Ardyn said. Noct climbed up to grip Ravus’ hips in both hands, and Ardyn smiled, slow and wicked, at the glassy look in Ravus’ eyes. 

“Burning the complex down,” Ravus said. Noct guided him down, eyes on Ardyn, and Ravus tipped his head back to reveal the long slope of his neck. 

“Oh, I’m sure he wouldn’t,” Ardyn said. “What do you think, Noct? Care to be ours for the day?”

Noct dug his fingers into Ravus’ hips, and Ravus grasped at Ardyn’s arm. “What? I’m not already?”

Ardyn only smiled.

Noct guided Ravus down onto Ardyn, raked his nails over Ravus’ back, tugged at his hair so Ardyn could see the way Ravus’ gaze went unfocused and his lips parted, too lost to the sensation of their touch to care. He shifted around to play with Ardyn’s chest while Ravus fucked himself on Ardyn’s length, and Ardyn scratched red lines down Noct’s back in return.

When Ardyn came, he came holding them—A hand on Noct’s back, another on Ravus’ neck, thumb sliding over his lower lip. Ravus sucked on his fingers, still coming down himself, and Ardyn smiled as Ravus dragged Noct over him, positioning him on Ardyn’s chest.

Noct wrapped his arms around Ardyn’s shoulders and kissed his temple even as Ravus thrust in, startling a gasp from Noct’s throat. 

When it was done, when Ardyn lay languid and boneless on the bed with Noct in his arms, Ravus sighed and got up to clean them off and drag down a new comforter from the linen closet. He settled down with a book rather than lower himself to anything as debasing as a cuddle, but Ardyn felt his foot slide along Ardyn’s leg despite himself.

“If this is what you do when I reunite with my brother,” Ardyn said, gazing up at Ravus through half-lidded eyes, “I wonder what you might do if my mother and I had tea.”

“No,” Ravus snapped.

“Fuck you,” Noct said.

Ardyn laughed, low and rumbling, as Ravus and Noct exchanged long-suffering looks from opposite ends of the bed, and closed his eyes to the sigh of their voices humming over him, slow and indistinct.

———

It took some time for Ardyn to get his way, but he was, if nothing else, a patient man. He dressed Ravus in jewels and feathers, peacocked himself in the best galleries and shows, had an abysmally awkward but nevertheless uneventful dinner with Somnus and a stony-faced Gilgamesh, and finally, through the art of pure, unadulterated annoyance, wore Noctis down. 

“I can’t believe this,” Noct said. He stood in front of Ardyn’s closet, dressed in a simple, tailored black uniform with a high collar and crisp boot cuffs. “I can’t _believe_ this.”

“You can retire at any time,” Ardyn said. Noct glowered at him, and he smiled. “Now, is that any way for a proper lackey to treat his liege?”

Noct opened his mouth to personally send Ardyn to the guillotine, and Ardyn silenced him with a hand on his cheek. He kissed him, slow and smiling, and Noct sighed.

“Now go make us breakfast,” Ardyn said, and turned Noct around by the shoulder. Noct blushed to his ears, and Ravus, lounging on the bed in elaborate imperial morning-wear and four hundred years of Tenebraean arrogance, snapped his fingers.

Slowly, clearly struggling to hold his tongue, Noct turned on one heel. 

“Don’t burn anything,” Ravus said. “Or I’ll take it out on your hide. And you bow,” he added, as Noct’s blush deepened, “to a member of the nobility.”

Noct hesitated, just a second, and turned back around.

“That’s ten lashes,” Ravus drawled, and, in a quiet, fonder voice than the scene allowed, added, “Lucian dog.”

“Ravus, be kind,” Ardyn said, but he could see Noct’s reaction from where he stood, and he doubted he truly took it to heart. He never could understand why the two of them always had to dredge up old blood from the war, but if that kept them happy, well... Ardyn admired Noct’s retreating back for a moment, then turned to Ravus.

“Well,” he said. “I give him twenty minutes.”

It took ten. Ardyn found Noct standing over the kitchen sink, a smoking pan shoved under a faucet and his phone in both hands, hurriedly typing out an order to one of their favorite bakeries. Noct jumped when Ardyn plucked the phone out of his hand, and when Noct tried to wriggle out from under him, Ardyn shoved the phone down his shirtfront and twisted Noct around. The air went out of him in a soft huff as his stomach hit the counter, and Ardyn held his hips in place.

“Surely you weren’t intending to leave the dirty dishes just lying there,” he said.

Noct shrugged a shoulder. “Should’ve known what you were in for when you asked me to cook.”

“Trust me,” Ardyn said. “I knew. Did you?”

He half expected an acerbic remark, but Noct’s face was flushed, and he shifted his legs uncomfortably as Ardyn made no move to release him. Ardyn rolled his hips experimentally, and Noct bit the inside of his cheek. Ardyn leaned forward, still holding him, and brushed his lips against his jaw.

“Go on.”

It was remarkable, really. Noct treated being tied up with a disinterested bemusement, and eyed Ravus’ leather collar like a traveler exploring an unknown country, but slap him around a bit or hold him a certain way, and he was practically moaning with desire. He fumbled his way through the dishes, guided by Ardyn’s hands on his hips, and when Ardyn turned him around, Noct waited in open-mouthed silence, expectant.

Ardyn lightly tapped Noct’s cheek with his open hand, and Noct’s eyes went dark with hunger. “He’s all yours, Ravus,” Ardyn called.

“Caelum!” Ravus’ voice was an imperious bark. Noct blinked. “Draw my bath.”

Ardyn stepped out of the way, and Noct, halfway gone already, slipped past him and into the master bedroom.

The sound of a hand striking flesh rang through the apartment. Ardyn poured himself a mimosa as a thump heralded Noct falling to his knees. Another slap, and Ardyn strolled to the bathroom, where Ravus stood over Noct, hand gripping his chin. 

“I’ll give you one more chance,” Ravus said. Ardyn raised his brows. Ravus probably didn’t even know he was smiling, his shadow sliding over Noct’s shoulders. Noct laughed softly, and Ravus let out the soft burst of breath that was his own silent chuckle. They stared at each other, and for that brief moment, they seemed to forget who they were supposed to be to one another. Noct took Ravus’ hand and kissed it, and Ravus ran his fingers over Noct’s cheek. 

Then Ravus glanced up to meet Ardyn’s gaze, and his own cheeks flushed in ruddy patches. “Ah.”

“Feel free to use him, Lord Ravus,” Ardyn said. He could feel Noct rolling his eyes, even if he couldn’t see his face. “It’s what he’s here for.”

Ravus blinked at Noct slowly, daring him to comment on what had passed between them, and hauled back to strike him loudly on the cheek. Noct rocked on his knees and let out a muffled, urgent sound, and Ravus placed his booted foot over Noct’s straining erection.

“I doubt you deserve this,” Ravus said, and Noct rolled forward unprompted, fucking himself on Ravus’ boot. “You’ll have to work your way up, I suppose. Start at the bottom. Where you came from.”

“Oh, fuck you, your majesty,” Noct said, and Ravus gripped his hair in his fist, dragging Noct’s head back so he had to look him in the eyes. 

Ardyn took a sip of his mimosa.

Ravus worked Noct up until he was panting, writhing on Ravus’ leg in mindless desperation, before he wrenched himself away. Noct groaned in frustration, but Ravus only pushed Noct’s head to the side as he passed him by to retrieve the softest flogger from the bedside table.

The sound Noct made as Ravus wrenched down his trousers to expose his backside was one Ardyn would cherish, in private moments to come.

When Noct was sufficiently weak-kneed and marked with already fading stripes over his ass, Ravus left Noct with the task to fill the bath while he scrounged breakfast from the fridge. Ardyn stepped into the water before Ravus could, of course, which was marvelously scented with a bag of dried lavender petals, and deployed Noct to feed him grapes.

Ravus took inordinate pleasure in ordering Noct around. He snapped him to attention in the hallway, walked around him in a quiet, disdainful inspection, and practically ripped the uniform off his back. Noct finally stood before Ravus wearing nothing but his soft jacket, while Ravus paced him in white and gold and shimmering shades of violet, a prince before the least of his servants.

“Still hardly worth my time,” Ravus said, and Noct smiled halfway before hurriedly attempting a sullen expression again. “Go attend to his majesty. He has lower standards.”

“Yes, but you needn’t say it like that,” Ardyn said, crossing his legs as he leaned back in his favorite chair. Noct turned to face him, and Ravus snapped his fingers twice. Ardyn could see Noct bristle.

“Down,” Ravus said. “No peasant should stand taller than the king—isn’t that so, Ardyn?”

“Fortune favors him, then,” Ardyn said, and it spoke to how thoroughly Noct had fallen into their teasing touches and imperial manner that Noct actually went to his hands and knees. Ravus’ nostrils flared, and Ardyn patted his lap as Noct approached, beckoning him up.

Noct twisted round to face Ravus as he ground down on Ardyn’s lap, naked and trembling with the effort of holding himself upright. He rode Ardyn slowly, deliberately angling for his own pleasure, before Ardyn tutted and bent him over onto the ottoman. Noct shoved his face in his arm and grunted out sharp, low cries as Ardyn thrust into him, but just as his voice reached a fever pitch, Ardyn snaked a hand to his front and squeezed him just enough for Noct to scrabble his nails on the ottoman, eyelids fluttering.

“Not yet,” Ardyn said, as Noct choked down a curse. “A good servant waits.”

Noct cursed again, thickly, as Ardyn slowed his thrusts, drawing out each snap of the hips with such force that Noct couldn’t control the strangled sounds he made into his arm. Ardyn watched Ravus on the other couch, staring dry-mouthed at Noct’s red, debauched face, and jerked his head. Ravus came to him, bracing his hand on Noct’s upper shoulder, and kissed Ardyn over Noct’s writhing form.

They came between him, both of them, and left Noct with his cock leaking pre and his eyes glassy and unfocused, numbly cleaning up at Ravus’ breathless order.

“Lie down, Noct,” Ravus said, as Noct stumbled past him, wandering and aimless. Ardyn steepled his fingers before his mouth and watched in silence as Ravus, the man who considered a glass of tea and a hand on his thigh to be sufficient aftercare for a night with the flogger, a truly ridiculous amount of wax, and a penis gag, gathered Noct against his chest and soundly jerked him off. Noct scrunched his eyes and arched his back, and Ravus whispered in his ear, low and unsmiling. When Noct came, he practically howled.

Ravus held him, after, petting his hair and still murmuring to him in a low voice, and Noct twisted around—getting come on Ravus’ costume, Ardyn thought, with some disappointment—to kiss him slowly and messily, working his way up to his mouth. Ravus cupped his ass to keep him from sliding off the couch, and Noct wrapped his arms around Ravus’ shoulders, burying his head in his neck.

They fell asleep like that, eventually.

“Bless,” Ardyn said. He stood and undid the knot at the back of Ravus’ head, letting his hair slide free over his shoulders. Perhaps, in another world, Ardyn truly would have been a king. His family would have weathered the revolution, built up their defenses, clung to power like a man scrambling up the side of a cliff. But he suspected, in a distant sort of way, that he would still end up here in the end. Looking down at his sleeping lovers, far from the machinations of matriarchs and ancient kings and wars that still spat out the wounded and wandering. 

Ardyn Izunia, grandchild of kings and ruler of a quiet empire in this small corner of the universe, dropped to one knee and bent to kiss his sleeping lovers, lips curved in a private smile all his own.


End file.
